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COIVRIGHT DEFOSm 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

• 

PRESS ON 

The Note Book of a 
War Relief Worker 

BY 

Agnes Chalmers 



THE CRESCENT PUBLISHERS 

GRAND RAPIDS. MICHIGAN 
1922 



5 









Copyright, 1922 

BY 

AGNES CHALMERS 



MAR IOi9'^2 
g)CU654900 



CONTENTS 

Foreword 8 

Press On 10 

Travel Orders 11 

To America's Peace Conference, France Comes 

With Nothing To Ask 12 

Gethsemane Redeemed 13 

The Remnant Shall Return 14 

The Soldier's Little Baby Girl 15 

Mary 16 

The Chamber In The Wall 17 

A Battle Royal 18 

Christ's Beloved 20 

A Bully Sweetheart . 21 

A Little Child Shall Lead Them 23 

A Word or Two of Sarcasm 24 

I'm Just a Reporter Back From War 25 

The World's Question: 26 

The Conference's Reply: 27 

This Army is a Queer Old Place 28 

Feeding The Multitudes 30 

The Word 30 

All Through With Braggin' 31 

A Few Thoughts on Home, Religion and Dis- 
armament 32 

The Victor 34 

There is No Lack 34 

Salvaged 35 

My Boy Came Back From France And Talked 

of God 36 

rU Say So! 37 

No Rank There 38 

Under Age 39 

My Family 40 

The American Woman War Worker in France 41 

I Come Over Here Last Winter 42 

I Enlisted For My Sister 43 



Is There a Funny Side to Everything in the 

Army? , 44 

I Never Had Any Sister 49 

When The Job Is Through 50 

Primitive Christianity 51 

Peace 51 

How I Entertained an American Girl in Paris 

After the Armistice 52 

With Authority 57 

Give Audience 57 

I Heard A "Y" Girl Singin' 58 

A Soldier's Idea of Prayer 60 

"No Thanks To Me" 61 

Peace 62 

Adjusted 63 

Parlez-Vous Francais 64 

"Who Is My Mother?" 65 

The Truth Is Not Betrayed 65 

The Peace of Stilled Appetites 65 

Candy's Candy 66 

A Hymn 67 

Giving Commandments 67 

After The War— A Vegetarian? 68 

Stupid Habit 70 

The Servants In My Home 70 

A Debate Between a Sergeant and a Private 71 

Repatriated 72 

I Was Always a Little Backward 73 

Rebuilt Cities of France and Belgium 74 

The Workers of the World 74 

My Christmas Present 75 

The First Sight of the Old Place 78 

A Home-Bound Troop Ship 79 

One Day of Gratitude 80 

I Hain't Never Goin' Back to the Same, Old 

Conventions 81 

A Prayer 84 

I Lost My Bible At Chateau-Thierry 85 

Freeing German Prisoners 90 

I'm Glad She's a Girl 91 

England's Pledge 93 

True Understanding Friends 94 

I Drove a Soldier Home One Day 95 



I Saw The Gold Star Mothers 96 

The Conversion of Miss Jones, Maiden Lady 98 

Hospitality 99 

Home and Service -. . 99 

"Be Patient With Me," said Brother __. 100 

My Mother 102 

I Was In Paris When The Armistice Was Signed- 103 

Joy and Service 104 

Why Should I Not? 105 

"Big Bertha" 106 

M. P.'s Everywhere 107 

A Soldier's Vision of True Reconstruction 108 

Service of Supply 112 

A Mighty Man 113 

The British and Brother 114 

Living Geography 115 

My Brother Sent a String of Beads To Me 116 

Give Me a Home 117 

Move On 117 

Supply 117 

My Brother Went Out to the Soldiers* Home 118 

The Millionaire's Son 120 

The Battles of Paris 121 

The Tabernacle of God 123 

Blessings 123 

I Had a Sister in the War 124 

Have You Anything To Tell Me? 125 

Ypres 126 

My Father Paid The Awful, Awful Price! 128 

No Response 129 

My Brother Wrote He Was In Paris ^_ 130 

La Libre Belgique 131 

My Son Sent Me a Present 132 

My Brother Brought a Wife Back 133 

The Wound Stripe 134 

I Like My Brother's New Wife 135 

The Red Chevron 136 

A Rest 136 

Promoted 137 

Would Sharing Be Fair? 138 

Thank God For Debts 138 

One Rhine Fort Destroyed 139 

Our Great Teacher's Humanity 140 



Losing Nothing 140 

Hot Rations 141 

There is a Woman Living on Our Street 142 

The Change in Father 143 

The Sheets Were Great 144 

Mac Was My Partner 145 

Rest 150 

I Want You To Know My Son 151 

I Wasn't at Chateau-Thierry 153 

I Have a Friend 154 

The World's Request for Peace 154 

My Son Came Home Last Week 155 

Dad's All Through With France 156 

Chickory— That is Trouble 157 

Each Day Press On 157 

I Had a Piece of White Bread 158 

Guidance 159 

I Lived Two Days in Paris on Twenty-eight 

: Francs . 159 

I Somehow Missed the Cows Most 160 

Peace 161 

A Friend 161 

My Son is Very Human 162 

A Seventy-Five 163 

Stephen and the World 164 

The Glorious Age of Disagreement 165 

Nobody Loves a Casual 167 

Ireland's Part in the War 168 

Mother and Dad 169 

Father's Much, Much Kinder 172 

Ten Days at Brest 174 

Brother— The New Watch on the Rhine 176 

Home 178 



TO THE UNKNOWN SOLDIER 

and ALL LOVERS OF 

TRUE PEACE 

Many of the verses in this book are based 
upon verbatim interviews with the common 
soldier in The Great War. They are written 
in the fighting man's own language which 
may be characterized as reverent rather than 
pious, intelligent rather than learned, and 
human rather than divine. The pages of the 
everyday history of the physical conflict of 
No Man's Land, entitled. Travel Orders, are 
dedicated to the Unknown Soldier. The re- 
maining poems bearing the page title. Press 
On, are addressed gratefully to the unknown 
soldiers or warring Michaels of today who 
are not only disarming from all racial preju- 
dices, but are likewise awakening from the 
fear of and resistance to God's government 
of man under His divine law and are thus 
finding heaven and peace on earth. 



Foreword 



AFTEK the signing of the Armistice, the 
L war workers stationed with the Ameri- 
can Army in France did everj^hing possible 
to entertain and sustain the soldiers who were 
daily hoping to receive travel orders home- 
ward. Entertainers were always on the 
lookout for poetry for the American Expe- 
ditionary Forces. Back here in America we 
question: Why poetry? Over there in France 
we answered: The boys are wanting poetry. 

Surely in this age none but the brave dare 
to ask and search for poetry. The Sunday 
before Christmas, 1918, a brave entertainer 
made this statement to a war worker: "The 
boys are begging for poetry. I have looked 
everywhere in Paris and can find nothing 
suitable. I dread returning to Coblenz with- 
out more poetry. Can you help me find 
some?" 

In France, the makers of doughnuts made 
doughnuts and the makers of poetry made 
poetry. In each case, the doughnut and poem 



were respected because they fed the boys. 
Aside from this, they had no honor. Thus 
one war worker became a maker of rhymes 
simply because the boys were demanding 
rhythm. The doughboy exemplified in his 
experience the words of Rupert Brooke who 
is quoted by his friend and biographer, Mr. 
Marsh, as saying: "There are only three 
things in the world, one is to read poetry, 
another is to write poetry, and the best of all 
is to live poetry." In France, the American 
Expeditionary Forces and the war workers 
lived every phase of poetry and thus it was 
that the doughnut maker lived or made 
"batches" of doughnuts by day while the war 
worker lived or made "batches" of poetry 
by night. Everywhere in France and with 
the Army of Occupation, this work was done 
for one purpose — ^to make the way easier for 
the manly boys who were brave enough to 
fight, and ask for poetry, those same boys 
who, after the Armistice, waited, watched 
and prayed for Travel Orders, which would 
enable them to return to civil life and Press 
On toward the home of perpetual peace. 



PRESS ON 



PRESS ON 

Today is filled with everything you need, 
To lift you up and fit you to learn love 
Then give yourself, your all, — ^this is, indeed. 
The highest gift, — all earthly gifts above. 
Give all, yea, all of self, dear, waiting World, 
Rejecting each temptation e'en of war 
Or hate or wrong or sin or appetite. 
Temptation loses pow'r. It is no more 
Before Love's earnest pray'r, "Let there be 

light." 
Press on, dear World, until you learn the 

might 
Of God's true government and peace on earth. 
Press On! 



10 



TRAVEL ORDERS 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

Travel orders ! Such is the game 

Of life. They're really just the same 

In civil life as in the fight, — 

Travel orders. Somehow the might 

Of travel orders no one can change. 

Travel orders! It's passing strange 

How a whole world moves on every day 

Under travel orders. Eternally 

They come at morning, come at noon. 

And come at night, — ^not an hour too soon,- 

Travel Orders! 



11 



PRESS ON 

TO AMERICA'S PEACE CONFERENCE, 

FRANCE COMES WITH NOTHING 

TO ASK 

"We shall listen rather more than talk. We have our opinion 
to express and sugg-estions to make, but we have no sort of 
purpose to ask anything for France. France comes to the con- 
ference asking for nothing, soliciting nothing and has in the 
background no things to be obtained for herself." 

— Premier Briand of France. 

France comes to ask nothing of anyone 
Save peace for all mankind. God's will is done, 
And Love reigns over all when everywhere 
Men go to ask nothing for self. God's care 
Is all-sufficient. France, through bitter woe, 
Thy lesson hath been learned. Now, men 

may go 
As thou, dear France, hath taught them, giv- 
ing good 
While asking all for earth's blest brotherhood 
And naught for self. Blest France, thy cities, 

torn 
And wasted by war's ravages, are born 
Again, baptised with waters, pure, of Life. 
In asking naught for self, all sin and strife 
Are ended and men press forever on 
To heaven on earth, — ^then all earth's wars 

are won 
And done forever more. 
Dear friends, this all must know 
In asking naught for self, each one may go 
To heaven here and now. Earth's wrong and 

woe 
Shall flee away if always everyone 
Remembers well to let God's will be done 
While asking naught for self. 



12 



TRAVEL ORDERS 
GETHSEMANE REDEEMED 

(A colonel's tribute to the American soldiers at the 
Second Battle of the Mame) 

The men who stood on the river bank 

On that grave night last July, 
The world may well rise up and thank 
As the centuries pass by. 
They had naught to lose, 
They had naught to choose 
But to stand alert and wait. 
The men who watched on the river bank 
Came not one hour too late. 

The men who watched on the Marne and 
prayed 
With their guns that wondrous night 
Redeemed Gethsemane. They weighed 
A world in the scale of right. 
They had naught to lose, 
They had naught to choose 
But to slumber not and wait. 
The men who watched on the river bank 
Slept not one hour too late. 

The men who stood and held the foe 
When the tide of war swept high 
Had nothing to claim their own and so 
They could answer the world's last cry. 
They had naught to lose, 
They had naught to choose 
But to open fire and wait. 
They watched Gethsemane's river bank 
With Love e'er it was too late. 



18 



PRESS ON 



THE REMNANT SHALL RETURN 

"The remnant shall return, even the rem- 
nant of Jacob, unto the mighty God. 

"For though my people Israel be as the 
sand of the sea, yet a remnant of them shall 
return: the consumption decreed shall over- 
flow with righteousness." — isaiah 10:21.22. 

The remnant shall return. They must return 
To law, to order and to "Peace on earth." 

For righteous peace, the remnant shall yearn. 
The remnant shall return and find true 
worth 

In God's own government. 



14 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

THE SOLDIER'S LITTLE BABY GIRL 

I left a littlG; teenty, weenty, baby girl back 

home, 
A-creepin' and a-cooin' but she couldn't stand 

alone, 
And how I often wonder if she'll be a meetin' 

me 
At the gate, and I wonder if she'll be a 

greetin' me, 

And callin' out : "Hey, Daddy, why you comin' 
home so late ?" 

My wife don't tell me when she writes how 
much the youngster grows. 

She thinks it makes me lonesome-like and 

maybe, too, she knows ! 
She writes of housework, knittin' and church 

and women's clothes. 

My wife is self-supportin'. She's so smart 
and quick and sweet. 

She sews for other ladies, dressin' them all 
nice and neat, 

So I did not ask exemption and I do not ask 
it yet. 

But I somehow hope the Baby won't grow up 
and then forget 

How to coo and creep and cuddle in my arms 
when I get home. 

Still, I will not be real sorry if the Kid can 
walk alone 



16 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

For I'm somehow lookin' for her at the gate 

a-meetin' me, 
A-runnin' and a-shoutin' when she comes 

a-greetin' me. 

Paris, France, 
December 23, 1918. 



MARY 

"Mary," I say just this one word 
Out loud, not so that it's ever heard. 

There isn't a soldier here 

Whose name is Mary. **Mary, dear," 
, . I say, "Mary" when no one can hear. 

Way out in No Man's Land, 
Pitch dark nights on sentry guard, 

I just reach out for her hand. 
"Mary," the name keeps faithful ward 
Over hellish doubt and fear. 
Mary's my wife. She can hear ! 

Her sleeping always was light, 

I'm thinking she prays through the night. 
"Mary, Mary, my dear." 

Paris, France, December 23, 1918. 



16 



PRESS ON 

THE CHAMBER IN THE WALL 

In every home there is a simple place, 

A room with table, bed and restful chair, — 
All now prepared just for the loving grace 

Of some true man of God. Elisha's care 
For that dear son of her, the Shunammite, 

Hath builded well a chamber in the wall 
In every home on earth. Nor day, nor night, 

No door shall e'er be closed to anyone. 

Each home is built for prayer. God's will is 
done. 

Love's simple, restful chamber in the wall, 

A place of prayer, is thine, thou man of God. 

Thou art then sent to raise the stupid 
dead 

From owning anything. Earth's brotherhood 

Must learn that God possesses all. Go, tell 

To everyone this message: "It is well." 



17 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

A BATTLE ROYAL 

I got a letter from my home place, 

Sayin' my girl had got married on me. 
They sent the chppin' and I guess my face 

When I read it was a sight to see. 
I'd never thought she would do that thing, 
An' how I hated her! My suffering 
Was mostly hate, so sez I : "Gee whiz ! 
I hain't no business to be hatin' Liz 
If she did get married on me." 

The next day my Christmas box was brung, 

My nine by a four by a three. 
I felt like a kid and I danced and sung. 

If my girl had got married on me. 
When I opened the box it was corkin', too, — 
Candies, gum, gloves, tobacco. Can you 
Beat it? Liz, herself, had sent a can 
Of tobacco long ago, before she ran 

Off and got married on me. 

I looked that can in the face. Not mad 

At all was I feelin', but sez I: 
"You've made me a slave, and I'm downright 
glad 

I couldn't smoke you either if I try. 
I hain't your slave no longer," f er says I : "O 

gee, 
Wouldn't smoke this old tobacco if it be 

The last on earth. It was sent, I see, 

By the girl who got married on me." 



18 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

Then I give all my tobacco away, 

An' the pipes I thought I'd always keep. 

I'd lay awake at night and think and say 
In leavin' home I knowed that God could 
keep 

Everybody safe. I used to ask Him, too, 
To be specially watchful and dear 

To the girl I left, keep her lovin', true, 

Befriend her, too, while I was over here. 

I figured mebby God made that match. 
Done all the introducin' of them two. 

Layin' in my bunk, I'd think and scratch 
My head until there wan't a thing to do 

When the whistles blew but git up. I see 
She's all right! We're friends! We'll 
have to be! 

The girl who got married on me. 

Paris, France, 
December 26, 1919. 



i» 



PRESS ON 



CHRIST'S BELOVED 

The Master loved the best the ones who met 

The human need and thus it was they said 
He dined with sinners. I must not forget 

The Master raised the thoughtless from 
the dead 
And loved the best the ones who met the need 

That should be met. Dear God, an open 
door 
Of human kindness, but the smallest seed, 

A well prepared repast, then, evermore 
Will make me his beloved one. 'Tis much 

In heaven to have given but a touch 
Of human kindness here on earth today; 

Then must I well remember on life's way 
To heaven to speak a kindly word of cheer. 

A smile makes his beloved one even here. 



20 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

A BULLY SWEETHEART 

I've got a bully sweetheart over there, 
Back home in good old, true old U. S. A. 

I'll say she's treated me right on the square 
Since I have been away. 

She hasn't said : "I wish that you were here," 

Or, *'I am missing you. The time seems 
long." 
She hasn't written once of doubt or fear 

Or loss or war or wrong. 
I've got a bully sweetheart over there, 

Back there in good old, true old U. S. A. 
I'll say she's treated me right on the square 

Since I have been away. 

I've got a bully sweetheart, that I know. 

She seems forever like a chum of mine, 
A brother or a father or a friend, 

A mother often, too, this girl of mine, 
A pal to have and lend. 

She never once has written of a tear. 

An ache, a pain, a loss, a cloud, a fear 
Since I have been away. 
This sweetheart girl of mine in U. S. A. 

I've got a bully sweetheart over there. 
Back there in good old, true old U. S. A. 

I'll say she's treated me right on the square 
Since I have been away. 



21 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

I've got a bully sweetheart over there, 

She writes just like the pals who fight with 
me, 
And had I not this lock of auburn hair, 

I couldn't even see 
Or dream about her hands so soft and white. 
Her blue eyes piercing ever through the 
night 

Of war's eternity. 
I've got a sweetheart whose one happy song 
Is: "Dear, it has not ever once seemed long 

Since you have been away. 
I love you for your work for U. S. A." 

Paris, France, December 23, 1918. 



PRESS ON 



A LITTLE CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM 

A little child shall lead them everywhere, 

All creatures of this earth. Isaiah's word 
Hath healed all nations of the world of care; 

It is Truth's message now forever heard 
And leading all from war to peace and rest. 
A little child shall lead them — Truth now 
flings 
This challenge to the hosts of war: "Ye 
know 
A little child shall lead men where they 
go." 



23 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

A WORD OR TWO OF SARCASM 

I don't give a flip about home-life. 
I never ate mince pie in all my life ; 

Bread and beef -stew 

Is all — ^this is true, 
I ever had to eat at home. My wife 
Never made cookies or cake or doughnuts in 
all her life. 

I don't give a whoop about anything in U. 

S. A. 
I never slept on anything over there but hay. 
I never had a chair, 
A comb or a pair 
Of socks — it's true, not over there. 
I don't give a whoop about anything in U. 
S. A. 

I wouldn't give a cent about money back 

there 
In America. Here it lasts longer. It's fair 
To each Frenchman to say 
That he always says : "Nay" 
To offers of pourboires, — it's true, everyday. 
I wouldn't give a cent about anything back 
there. 

I wouldn't take anjiihing and go without 
The baths I have here. There isn't a doubt 

That no one ever saw a bath-tub or took a 
swim 

Back in America. No, by Jim — 



24 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

Miney. There hain't mince pies, cookies, 
doughnuts, candy or bed 

Or money or bath-tub back there. 
Why should I be led 

From this Army where 
Wondrous comfort is mine? 
The Army and France fer me every time — 
The Army and France is treatin' me fine! 

Paris, France, December 23, 1918. 



I'M JUST A REPORTER BACK FROM WAR 

Fm just a reporter back from war 

But I'll never leave Mother any more. 

I've a small type-writer. I'm sure that I 

Can pound out a living. At least, I'll try 

To earn one in that town where she 

Lives, and you can't be blaming me! 

I don't care much for money. No ! 

Francs melted in France like snow, you know ; 

And, anyway, that money seemed 

Like a fancy wrapper. No one dreamed 

Of saving it there, and so, I'll say, 

I'll write at home. I'll be glad to stay 

Where I can kiss her a fond, good-night 

When I leave each evening for town. It's 

right, 
I'll work at home and I'll never stir 
Away again from the sight of her. 
My Mother. 



26 



PRESS ON 



THE WORLD'S QUESTION: 

I wait today without the temple's gate 

Which is called Beautiful? I ask an alms, 
An alms of walking straight from dawn till 
late 
At eventide with gladsome hymns and 
psalms 
Ever upon my lips. Here, at thy gate 

I beg, The World, lame even from my birth 
With love of money and with pride of pow'r. 
I pray thee from thy table give me worth 
Of righteous government that I, this hour. 
May leap and praise the living God. Be- 
hold, 
My weakened bones and feet would rise and 
walk. 
Yea, I would rise and leap and run and talk 
Ever of God's true law. 



26 



PRESS ON 

THE CONFERENCE'S REPLY: 

We have no gold, nor silver, e'en, have we, 
Hence may you rise this moment. World, 
and praise 
God's law. In name of Christ, we make you 
free 
From human warfare. For God's mighty 
ways 
Of government, give thanks eternally. 

This is your need — to watch and work and 
pray 
For no more gold for warfare nor for bribes 
Of pow'r's balance. All is in God's hand. 

Return, ye Israel's tribes 
To heaven's law. 

That moment sprang up, strong, and well, 
and free, 
The World, leaping and praising God for 
all. 
The World arose that moment well and 
strong. 
Leaping and praising God with joyous song 
For Love's true government. 



27 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

THIS ARMY IS A QUEER OLD PLACE 

This Army is a queer old place, 

It's stale and rummy, too. 
It hain't refined. It has no grace 

Of manners. Old beef -stew 
Slapped down at mess most every day 

And rotten coffee, too! 
This Army is a queer old place. 

It's stale and rummy, too. 

And yet for every horrid thing 

I love this Army life. 
To chew beef without suffering 

Or having any strife 
Is quite a little stunt each day, 

I'm tellin' this to you. 
I'm proud of myself, I would say 

And that is something, too. 
This Army is a queer old place. 

It's rummy through and through. 

This Army is a queer old freak 

And, yet, I've lots of pride 
Because I didn't make a sneak 

And try my best to hide 
Behind a woman's skirt. By gee, 
I'm glad I got the fightin' bee, 
Glad for the Army, too. 
This Army is a queer old place. 
It's rummy through and through. 



28 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

This Army is the queerest dope 

That ever dopester doped. 
You don't dare even once to hope 

Or to have ever hoped. 
You let the world move on and you 
Move when the Army's moving you. 
It's rummy through and through. 

And yet for all its near-fool ways 

I wouldn't once, by gad, 
Have stayed at home through all these days 

With Wifie, Maw or Dad. 

Not me — I'll stick right where I be 

Without a hope or care, 
Until the Army's moving me 

From France to home, back there. 

Paris, France, 
December 23, 1918. 



29 



PRESS ON 
FEEDING THE MULTITUDES 

(To the Disarmament Conference in America) 

The multitudes are fed again today, 

The Tribes of Israel from whence they 
come. 
Dear God, I thank Thee for the wondrous 
way 
Thou hast in leading all Thy children home. 



THE WORD 

"In the beginning was the Word," we learn 
Within the Scriptures — just the Word, no 
more. 
As followers of Christ, we truly yearn 
To have naught else, no sin, no death, no 
w^ar. 
"In the beginning was the Word." Our prayer 
For nothing else is answered here, today. 
All fear and death and war have passed 
awaj^ 
"In the beginning was the Word." 



so 



TRAVEL ORDERS 



ALL THROUGH WITH BRAGGIN* 

When I enlisted, I was all through with 
braggin*. 
Never agin fer me! 
My wife is a Jonah on naggin' 

While I am as kind as can be. 
When I enlisted, I was all through with brag- 
gin'. 

When I enlisted, I was all through with brag- 
gin' — 
Never agin fer me ! 
At Chateau-Thierry, the whole blamed Army 
was laggin' 
Behind except Pershing and me. 
How do I know ? Well, couldn't I see ? 
When I enlisted, I was all through with 
braggin'. 

Paris, France, 
December 23, 1918. 



81 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

A FEW THOUGHTS ON HOME, RELIGION 
AND DISARMAMENT 

The fellers all are askin': "Kin ye tell me 

when ye be 
A-goin* home, you guys there ? Cannot prove 

a thing by me." 
I say nothing, whatsoever, since I hain't a 

thing to say 
Except that I don't know at all. Believe me, 

anyway. 
We have fixed it fer Americans fer all the 

time to come. 
We come here and got acquainted and now 

v/eVe got to call it home. 
I was studjdn' some history, one day, I think, 

last fall. 
An' I seen where we left Europe, that we 

wa'n't content at all, 
That we longed fer a religion of our own and 

so we got 
Up and dusted fer America. I'll say, you'll 

likely not 
Believe me if I tell you that salvation might 

have been 
Worked out for all the world if America had 

seen 
It could have had religion where'er it was. 

By gee. 
When they ask me: "Be ye goin' home?" I 

hain't no answer. See? 
We fixed it fer Americans fer all the time to 

come. 
We come here and got acquainted and now 

we've got to call it home. 

82 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

I am a good American and so I always claim 
We come acrost and won the war. It's true, 

though, jest the same 
That Belgium played upon the stage a role 

no one would choose 
Fer bein' soft, and England, too, could claim 

none could refuse 
To give her all the credit, and France could 

say: **By gee. 
The freedom of a bloomin' world has sure 

been earned by me." 
Old Italy could rise up and say her Mountain 

men 
Had done wonders fer a world. But, mebby, 

too, agen, 
The winnin' of the war want an awful sight 

to do. 
The guy who hain't a slacker when the 

fightin' job is through 
Is the one who draws the medals of a world. 

You're askin': "Say, 
When you goin' home?" By ginger! Well, 

I hope it's right away. 
We fixed it fer Americans fer all the time to 

come. 
We come here and got acquainted and now 

we've got to call it home. 



88 



PRESS ON 

THE VICTOR 

The hosts of heav'n never ceased to fight 
During those years of warfare, hence the 
might 

Of Truth prevailed. 

This hour, the Christ walks o'er the surging 

waves 
Of a world's hatred; yea, Truth comes and 

saves 

An entire world. 



THERE IS NO LACK 

There is no lack, at all. I journey on 

And merely have to watch and sing and 

pray 
And thank God ever for all good today. 

There never is a lack. His will is done. 



84 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

SALVAGED 

Someone stole my raincoat from me, — 

Salvaged it, right off the bat. 
Never brought it back. By Jimminie, 

Tell me, what you know of that? 
I was awful proud to get it. 

Private's proud of anything. 
Hain't 'nother one. Aw, f ergit it. 

Cheer up, holler, shout and sing! 

Somehow, someway, I am sayin' 

That the guy who has my coat 
Isn't doin' any pray in', 

An' he's sorter got my goat. 
Still, I hope he kinder likes it. 

An' I hope it keeps him hot. 
An' I hope f er years he hikes it 

'Round in Germany. 0, rot, 
I don't like revenge and hatin' ! 

Mebby he has stood in line. 
An' he grew so sick o' waitin' 

An' he figgered mine and thine 
Wasn't much to ever reckon 

In this Army life. Oh, gee! 

When I reach heav'n's gates, I reckon. 

He'll be beckonin' to me, 
An' I'll know him by his figger. 

An' his raincoat. Won't it be 
Great to see him? I be jigger! 

Jest as like as not he is 
Right in heav'n when I git there 



86 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

Teachin' there's no mine ner his, 
An' I sure hope to fergit there 

All my grief and suffering 
Fer my lost coat. Aw, fergit it. 

Cheer up, holler, shout and sing! 

Paris, France, 
December 25, 1919. 



MY BOY CAME BACK FROM FRANCE 
AND TALKED OF GOD 

My Boy came back from France and talked 
of God most every day. 

And yet he sang and danced around. I 
thought, perhaps, he may 

Have lost his mind like many did, so many 
over there. 

With shell shock. 

I asked him why he talked of God and 
danced and sang and laughed 

The very minute after. He joked and clogged 
and chaffed, 

And talked of God together. It wasn't de- 
cent. No ! 

He said: ''Why, Mother, over there God was 
your pal, and so 

You laughed and sang, and danced with Him 
in battle day or night." 

Perhaps my son ain't shell-shocked. His re- 
ligion may be right 



36 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

I'LL SAY SO! 

I'll say Paris isn't the worst spot, 

It's as fair as any I've saw. 
You kin be good there or you kin be not; 

It's the same home with Mother and Paw. 
It's all sort-o up to the f ell-o, 

If he's walkin' crooked or straight, 
And while Paris isn't just hell-o. 

It hain't nuther the Pearly Gate. 

I was walkin' in Paris and thinkin' 

Of home, — it was late last July. 
A French girl come 'long, she was blinkin' 

An' winkin' and blinkin' her eye. 
She stops and says : "Venez, oui, venez 

Avec moi, 0, mon tres cher Monsieur." 
One French word I know is called, ''Allez," 

And I used it without any fear. 
I looked in her eye and I saw there 

A Ion gin' fer heaven and rest. 
I said to myself: 'It is not fair 

To jedge her. I'll be thinkin' my best." 

I tried to explain all in motion 

What I learnt jest the one time I went 
To Sunday School. I had a notion 

That she somehow could tell what I meant. 
We stood there just like children hast-to, 

Watchin' windows with diamonds ablaze. 
I'll say if you like, if I dast-to 

That Paris is not a bad place. 
And after a-while, all a-smilin' 



37 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

Without me, she walked down the street. 
I'll say it without any guilin', 

She was honest and simple and sweet. 

Paris, France, 
Christmas Eve, 1918. 



NO RANK THERE 

I went to the Press School over there 
In Chaumont, G. H. Q. 

There wasn't a shade of rank. That's where 
I scored! This thing is true, 
I made the most of everything 
In that school. Generals would give 
Talks on who won the war and, say, the ring 
Of my voice will forever live. 
"Will you tell me. General," I would say. 
In an off-hand, easy sort-o-way 
What you think of So and So?" 
The question was nothing but I had 
To hear from a General all he'd know 
And to tell the truth, too, I was glad 
To stand right up without any rank, 
I, a Buck Private, and say: "Will you. 
General, tell me this? — I see! Oh, thank 
You for the explanation now. Please do 
Tell me of this. Thank you! I am done." 
To tell you the truth, it was great fun 
To talk without any rank or show 
To a General, I'll have you know, 
On "Who Won the War." 



38 



PRESS ON 

UNDER-AGE 

I had a little, teenty, woolly sheep, 

I used to feed each day, 

A woolly lamb I used to love and keep 

And pet. And would you say 

I would not make a soldier 'cause I had 

To feed this lamb warm milk? My, I am 

glad 
I had this woolly lamb ! 
My father said to me: "See here, my lad 
So you would march away 
With soldiers ? Just a baby at your play ! 
The only lie," he said, **you ever told 
Was to get in the Army. You were bold," 
He scolded, — yet he pressed so soft my arm, 
And said: "My boy, you will be kept from 

harm. 
There is another Lamb to guard and keep 
Love's watch o'er you, e'en though, my lad, 

you sleep 
In No Man's Land." My father never was 
Religious, yet he gave all for a cause. 
His son, — the only one he had to give. 
I'm glad for him I fought unharmed and 

live. 

Paris, France, 
December 23, 1918. 



89 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

MY FAMILY 

Say, fellows, it's sort of uncanny, 

This blooming old Army life. 
There's a fellow who looks like Granny, 

Another looks like my wife. 
There's a boy with the smile of Mother, 
A sergeant who looks like Paw, 
And still there's a private, another. 

Who resembles my brother-in-law. 
I saw 'em standin' and talkin' 

At mess. It was strange as could be. 
*'Am I dreamin' ?" I asked. "Am I walkin' 

And seein' ?" I couldn't quite see. 
'Am I home again?" I am askin' 

"Or am I dreamin', my lad?" 
At least, in their smiles I am baskin', 

My family, my all that I had. 
I'm lovin' you, fellows, and prayin' 

To be worthy to have you love me. 
I'm lovin' you, buddies, and sayin' 

That you've helped me to be what I be. 

Paris, France, 
December 23, 1918. 



40 



PRESS ON 

THE AMERICAN WOMAN WAR WORKER 
IN FRANCE 

Tve had a good time, fellows, 

Right here in France at last. 
You'll be jealous, all you buddies, 

And you'll say I've put it past 
You. Say ! I guess you sure will care 

When I say I saw a woman 
With the very eyes and hair 

Of my mother. Yep, I saw her, 
Talked with her an hour, too. 

A-M-E-R-I-C-A-N, just like my mother, 
My, I'm glad what's real is true! 

Say, she really spoke like mother, 
Gentle-like, a trifle slow. 

Grasped my well hand, tried to smother 
Back a tear. I didn't know 

But she really was another 
Angel just like mother is, — 

Grey hair, blue eyes, yep, I'd ruther 
See her natural like this. 

Just a woman without powder, 
Without paint or lashes black. 

A-M-E-R-I-C-A-N, you cannot crowd her 
Off the map since she'll come back. 

Gee ! I thought as I was talkin' 
With her. My ! But you are real. 

Still I kept right on a-walkin' 
Never sayin' how I feel. 

She was just so real like mother. 
Hair all greyish, eyes deep blue. 

Boys, I'm glad there is another 
Mother here to watch us, too. 

Paris, France, December 23, 1918. 

41 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

I COME OVER HERE LAST WINTER 

I come over here last winter, 

Most a year I've been in France, 
And I just couldn't beginter 

Tell you if I had a chance 
How I like the girls back yonder 

In the good old U. S. A. 
And now is it any wonder 

That I like 'em, answer, hey ? 

I like girls proud, up and comin' 

Like my younger Sis back there. 
She hain't ever out a-drummin' 

Beaux up, never gives a care 
If there's anyone that's thinkin' 

She is pert, an' young and sweet. 
No, you bet, she's never blinkin' 

At the fellers on the street. 

'Course I hain't a criticisin' 

Any lady here in France, 
And I hain't a-even sizin' 

Them — I'm givin' them a chance. 
Not f er me, oh, no, not ever. 

I'll go back to U. S. A., 
And I'll find a girl like Sister, 

Independent, every day! 

If she wants to vote, I'll never 

Lay a straw across her way 
But she'll walk the streets, by ginger, 

Back in good old U. S. A. 
And she won't hang back and linger 



42 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

'Round some feller loafin' nigh. 
Yep, I'll find a girl like Sister 
An' we'll marry bye-an'-bye. 

Paris, France, 
December 23, 1918. 



I ENLISTED FOR MY SISTER 

I enlisted for my sister. She was proud as 

she could be 
To have me in the Army, — knittin', writin' 

on to me. 
My, I thought how she would rather 
Have a brother here in France. 
Sure it was for Maw and Father 
But I somehow took a chance 
Of her sayin' at her parties : 
"Girls, my brother's over there." 
I enlisted most for sister, 
'Cause I thought that it was fair. 
After I'd been in the Army 
Most a year, or maybe more, 
I was in the front line trenches. 
Where I hadn't been before. 
I passed many a town and city 
Where the sisters all had gone 
And my heart was filled with pity. 
Just as if they'd been my own. 
So when life seems mighty lonely over 

here I pause and say: 
"I enlisted for my sister and I'm mighty glad 

to stay." 

48 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

IS THERE A FUNNY SIDE TO EVERY- 
THING IN THE ARMY? 

Is there a funny side to everything in the 

Army? 
Someone stole from my trunks and from me 
Everything I owned, — ^not everything. 
When I opened one trunk up I see 
All that was left, — an old shoe-string. 
I laffed and laffed and said I: "I'll be 

switched!" 
Is there a funny side to everything in the 

Army? 

Is there a funny side to everything in the 

Army? 
I had two trunks, and the second one 
Contained the very best things I had. 
"Gee," sez I, "I know that I'll be done 
All up and that I'll be bloomin' mad 
If those things is stole." I opened that ; 
A sheet of paper was lyin' flat 
On the bottom, enough to be writin' you. 
Dear Army, and askin' fer clothes all new. 
Is there a funny side to everything in the 

Army? 

Is there a funny side to everything in the 

Army? 
I was flyin' and I got lost one day 
From my squadron, and, say, the rotten way 
Those German flyers beat me down. 
And shot my engine! I felt a clown, 
A-circlin' and whizzin' and beatin' the air. 



44 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

I landed a prisoner over there. 
Is there a funny side to everything in the 
Army ? 

Is there a funny side to everything in the 

Army? 
I didn't stay long on the German side 
When I thought I'd take a walk, not ride, 
To the Border nights. With a sack of food. 
And rain a-beatin', I hoofed 'er good 
At night, and, at mornin' I'd rock and sway 
Jes' to get warm so as to sleep that day. 
Is there a funny side to everything in the 

Army? 

Is there a funny side to everything in the 

Army? 
I got to the border, ready to cross, 
And stepped on a briar bush. My loss 
Through that cracklin' bush seemed queer, 

I'll tell, 
So I hiked 'er back to a prison cell 
With a German sentry keepin' me 
Straighter than anyone orter be. 
Is there a funny side to everything in the 

Army? 

Is there a funny side to everything in the 

Army? 
I sat in that cell and I wanted to read. 
The fellers slipped all the food I'd need 
But I dasn't talk and I dasn't look. 
I wanted, oh, how I wanted a book. 
Them German guides said I could sing 



45 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

The hymn of hate and I guess the ring 
Of my lonely voice sounded good, so then, 
I sang with a dirge air: **Bring, my men 
To me a book. Oh, bring, my men, oh bring 
A book to ease, to ease, to ease my suff-ferr- 

ing." 
Is there a funny side to everything in the 

Army? 

Is there a funny side to everything in the 

Army? 
I got to Allery f eelin' fine, 
Was chucked in a hospital. O'er the Rhine, 
I dwelt in a prison. I'm tellin' you, 
A hospital is some prison, too. 
I was fat as butter on Red Cross food, 
A-feelin' downright bully and good. 
Is there a funny side to ever3rthing in the 

Army? 

Is there a funny side to everything in the 

Army? 
I come to Paris. The flu struck me. 
An' I looked like a funny star should be. 
The doctors said I would have to die. 
It was Christmas momin', and I said : "Why, 
It's funny to die so far away 
From my home and friends on Christmas 

day." 
Is there a funny side to everything in the 

Army? 

Is there a funny side to everything in the 

Army? 
Jest as old man Death came stalkin' in, 



46 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

I said: "Old feller, it is a sin 
To give you this work on Christmas mom, 
The day that the dear Christ-child was bom." 
I said : **Death, take one day's leave and see 
The Red Cross and Y. M. Christmas tree. 
Never mind thinkin' I'm needin' you 
If I am a-dyin' of Spanish flu." 
Is there a funny side to everything in the 
Army? 

Is there a funny side to everything in the 

Army? 
Death hung on like an M. P. I said, 
As I riz and set right up in bed; 
"Haw, haw, hee, hee, hain't it funny, say, 
A Yank dyin' in France on Christmas day 
Of Spanish flu? Why not in Spain? 
Why pick on France?" — an' I yelled again. 
Death sez, sez he : "You're insultin' me ! 
I'm as dignified as Death should be." 
Is there a funny side to everything in the 

Army? 

Is there a funny side to everything in the 

Army? 
Still Death hung around with a doubtful 

stare 
While I was sittin' and laffin' there. 
"This time," sez I, sez I to me: 
"The funniest death that could ever be 
Is to die in France on Christmas day 
Of Spanish flu and to pave the way 
For a real French funeral! Hully gee, 
A real French funeral f er me !" 



47 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

Is there a funny side to everything in the 
Army ? 

Is there a funny side to everything in the 

Army? 
I could see them Frenchmen walkin' slow 
Behind a camion's trail, and so, 
I knew they couldn't keep up, by gee. 
With the 'Merican Army a-buryin' me. 
I laffed and laffed and whooped 'er loud. 
Death rattled: "No sense at all! Why 

crowd 
Me out with your boisterous laff ? Friend, I 
Must be excused if you will not die." 
I got well that minute and rose and had 
The j oiliest Christmas I ever had. 
Fer a Christmas present I got, I'll say 
The best! Travel orders to U. S. A.! 
Is there a funny side to everything in the 

Army? 

Paris, France, 
December 25, 1918. 



48 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

I NEVER HAD ANY SISTER 

I never had any sister, 

And I don't know as I have missed her 

Until I came over last Fall. 

Then, somehow, I wanted to write her, 

Admonish her, yes, and indite her 

To be straight as a string — that is all! 

I never had any sister 

And I don't know as I have missed her 

Until I came over to fight. 

And, somehow, I wanted to write her, 

Admonish her, yes, and indite her 

To be doin' the things that are right. 

I never had any sister 
And I don't know as I have missed her 
Until I came over the sea. 
The war isn't over, I'm knowin' 
Till each woman on earth is a-goin* 
As straight as a woman can be, 

Paris, France, 
December 23, 1919. 



49 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

WHEN THE JOB IS THROUGH 

You git a lonesome feeling to go back most 

every day 
An' the Army seems a nuisance and you wish 

yourself away 
But have you ever stopped to think there 

hain't a speck of fun 
At home until the boys are there, yes, every 

mother's son, 
The wounded and the casuals; that hain't 

enough, oh, no. 
Not till the Occupation and the Reg'lar men 

kin go. 
There won't be any fun at all back home I'm 

telling you 
Until every soldier gits there and the job is 

through. 
So there hain't no use in longin' to be back 

agin, not yet, 
Till the boys are all back yonder. Now don't 

you once forget 
There is Regulars and Casuals and Air, Ma- 
rine men, too. 
And there hain't no fun whatever till the job 

is through. 

Paris, France, December 23, 1918. 



50 



PRESS ON 

PRIMITIVE CHRISTIANITY 

Again the custom of an age-past day, 

Long centuries ago, has come to men. 
As in the time, before had passed away 

The customs Jesus loved, our net is cast 
Upon the side of right. Now we may go, 

As in days gone, to any home on earth, 
And say, "I am your guest hence shall I stay 
Until I have my blessing." Oh, the worth 
Of that past custom! It was ever then 
Men stayed as guests to talk the word of 
God. 
They were not questioned of themselves. No 
name 
Was even given. But of rule or rod, 
God's chastening government, each talked the 
same. 
Till host and guest were blest with heav'n, 

indeed ; 
This custom has returned to meet our need. 



PEACE 

Over the wars of earth these words still stand 
And point the way on every sea and land : 
'*My peace I leave with you," not as the world 
Hath giv'n. Yea, these words are now un- 
furled 
O'er all the world: "My peace I leave with 
you." 



61 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

HOW I ENTERTAINED AN AMERICAN 

GIRL IN PARIS AFTER THE 

ARMISTICE 

I entertained an American girl two nights 

In Paris, after the fightin'. Say! 

It's a corkin' time we were having sights 

Of fun ; and this was the way 

I entertained her. I knew a show 

rd like to see and asked I: "You go?" 

And says she: "Thank you, that will be great! 

Will you meet me here at this room at 

eight?" 
It was a readin' and writin' room 
Fer soldiers, down town handy. I see 
I was lucky to find a girl like she 
Was 'cause if I'd had to go, like as not. 
To her hotel, I'll say, the very spot 
I might not have found in Paris. 

I ate some supper, acrost the street, 

In a Bar I think it was. Anyway, 

The folks in that place looked very good 

And lady-like and I had some food 

That was advertised "American" ; and I says 

to me: 
"I'm as free and happy as I kin be," 
So then I went back to the room. 
A fire was a-bumin', the first I'd saw 
Sence I was a-livin' with Dad and Maw; 
In fact, I hadn't had any heat 
In France, not onct even to warm my feet. 



52 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

I set and thought and I didn't read, 
Though it was a readin' room. My need 
Seemed to be to set and set and think — 
An' then that girl she rushed in, I jink! 
And said : "Well, I am ready." 

Well, I wasn't ready. No, no siree! 

Not with that grate fire toastin' me. 

I looked in her eye and without a blink 

Said : "I'm not goin'. I'd ruther think 

And be warm agin and feel and seem 

That I'm home onct more in this grate fire 

gleam. 
I'd ruther think and dream and dream. 
I'm not goin' out," says I. 

A smile flew over her face so bright 

She answered; "Corporal, you're choosing 

right. 
The show is good, but it's ripping here. 
There's wondrous comfort and lots of cheer 
In watching a log of wood aflame, 
And it's better for me — ^but just the same," 
She added, as quick as a flash, "we'll see 
Each other and talk when we both are free." 
She picked up a log, just a corkin' one 
And threw it in and away she run. 
And I sat there all evening and thought. 

The next night I said : "Jest onct I'll blow 
My corp'ral's pay fer eats. I know 
I'm needin' a good, square meal, says I. 
I've enough fer one meal. Why should I try 



58 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

To save?" So I picked a ruther quiet place 

An' I went to eat, and I saw the face 

Of the girl I did not take at all 

To the show, and with the durndest gall, 

Knowin' I hadn't a cent to spare, 

I said: "Will you dine with me?" I dare 

Do anything. I am most a fool 

At darin' or so they said at school. 

She accepted the invitation. 

We had everything from soup to cheese, — 
Not nuts in France, — and if you please, 
We not only had meat but we had sole, too, 
A-cooked in a sort of a creamy stew. 
Gee, I enjoyed it! Not even once 
Did I stop to think what a bloomin' dunce 
I would be without half enough to pay 
My own check sayin' nothin' of her's. I'll say, 
That girl was someone you'd like to know, 
Like a brother or like the pals who go 
Into No Man's Land. She laffed and said: 
''I washed my hair last night and went to 
bed." 

She slipped her hat back. Believe me. 
With curled, bobbed hair she was good to 

Of all the dolled-up girls I knew 

She had something on everyone, it's true. 

Then I remembered how I let her last night 

Go home alone with no speck o' light 

On the streets. I laffed out loud and I almost 

grew 
Boisterous and I told her, too, 

54 



i 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

That I sure forgot last night that she 
Was a girl at all. Says I : "Kin it be 
That men is becomin' girls and you 
Girls is becomin' men? Can this be true?" 
And I laff ed and almost hollered ! 

And while I was laffin', I heard her say 
In a quiet tone to the waiter : "Mais, 
Pour moi, Taddition, s'il vous plait." 
An' I thought: "Gee, that's another food 
But her orderin' thus far has been good." 
The waiter brought on a silver tray 
A paper, and I fainted dead away 
Or pretended to when she paid the bill. 
An' I'll say f er once that I had my fill 
Of the best dinner I'd had in France! 

And right that minute, ten girls rushed up — 
"Y" girls, they were, — all flushed up 
With hurryin', never a speck of paint 
Did they wear at all. I told 'em "I hain't 
Engaged f er the evening" ; said they to me : 
"We've got tickets for a show you would like 

to see." 
We laffed and giggled and had great fun. 
Them eleven girls and I, jest one 
Man among them, but I'll say they 
Was as manly as any pals out there 
In No Man's Land where they fight f er fair. 
After the show we started home. 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

"Tell US where are you stopping? Say," 
Says they, these girls, "can you find your 

way? 
Oh, we know Paris just like a book." 
I knew at a map I would have to look 
Far into the morning and, believe me. 
Not a word of French am I speakin'. See? 
So they took me to my hotel. 

And how I laff ed when I struck the hay. 
I held in fer the hotel was sleepin'. "Say," 
I thought, "how funny it was that I 
Forgot my sex!" I'd laff and cry 
When I thought how I set by the fire bright 
While that girl walked home in the rain last 
night. 

I laffed, but, says I : "It hain't any worse 

Or funnier and not half the curse 

That it was before this war was fought. 

All the crazy stunts that we always thought 

Was correct." I can't say as I care 

If I learned to be lady-like over there 

In France. 

Paris, France, December 26, 1918. 



56 



PRESS ON 

WITH AUTHORITY 

In asking naught for self, thou speakest well 
With true authority, — thus men are blest. 
Yea, this is heav'n and peace and joy and 
rest. 

To ever speak with the authority 

Of giving all that all men may be free. 



GIVE AUDIENCE 

"Paul stood up, and beckoning with his 
hand said, Men of Israel, and ye that fear 
God, give audience. The God of this people of 
Israel chose our fathers, and exalted the peo- 
ple when they dwelt as strangers in the land 
of Egypt, and with an high arm brought He 
them out of it." _Acts 13:16, 17. 

Give audience! Then shall ye reach again 
Thine home in heav'n, yea, heav'n here on 

earth. 
Give audience to Truth and voice the worth 
Of those who gave their all that men might 

live. 
Arise, give audience, awake and give! 



57 



TRAVEL ORDERS 
I HEARD A "Y" GIRL SINGIN' 

(A private's tribute to Y. M. C. A. entertainers in France) 

I heard a "Y" girl singin' in our Hut one 

lonely night. 
I didn't know her name at all, but gee, her 

looks was right. 
Her singing it was peachy an' she danced a 

hull song through 
With sabots clompin' on her feet. Sez I: "I 

wish I knew 
That girl. She suits me to a tee. After the 

war is past, 
I'd work my farm for her." By gee, I some- 
how felt I dast 
To ask her. She was common-like, but pretty 

just the same. 
Sez I: "Ez like ez not some day that girl will 

share my name." 

There was a guy sung with her and then 

sung hisself again 
Alone: "It's me in need o' prayer and cleans- 

in' of my sin. 
'Tain't my mother, 'tain't my father who 

stands in need o' prayer, 
'Tain't my colonel, nor captain, but it's me," 

that struck me square 
Between the eyes, by thunder ! Till I couldn't 

look at all 
At him. Then the accompanist a-settin' near 

the wall 



58 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

Struck me as bein' pretty, jest as pretty as 

could be. 
Sez I: "If that there younger girl refuses 

me, by gum, 
There's lots of others just as good. That 

lady she is some 
Looker, too. Jinks! How she plays, never 

followin' a note! 
Just then the girl rose up to sing. I choked 

and grabbed my throat. 
She was singin', "When the Boys Come 

Home" in a sweet sort o' way, 
An' when she finished, how I cheered with, 

Whoop, Hip, Hip, Hurray! 

I cheered until a guy leaned back and yelled : 

"You're glad she's sent 
I see you really like the daughter of our 

President." 
"I didn't know that it was her," sez I, and 

choked again, 
Fer in a minute, too, it struck me with a 

sort-o-pain 
She wouldn't care to change her name for 

Mrs. Private Brown 
With jest a farm and Ford, by heck, and not 

a house in town. 
I felt better in a minute, like myself, then, 

believe me, 
I hollered and I shouted fer sez I to me, "I see 
My fam'ly from our White House has come 

here to sing to me. 



69 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

The daughter of the President has come over 

here to France 
To keep us from bein' lonely and give us all 

a chance 
To remember Sis and Mother and I am glad, 

by gum, 
Fer any daughter's comin' an' I'll say, I'm 

glad she's come." 
Paris, France, 
December 28, 1918. 



A SOLDIER'S IDEA OF PRAYER 

I'll say I've got a funny familay, 

Writin' me most every day 
That they hain't a-ever thinkin' 

Wrong about me. Still they pray 
I'll be kept from harm and trouble 

And be landed safe agin 
Back home. They're thinkin' double, 

Sometimes good and sometimes sin. 
I'll say I've got a funny familay, 

Writin' me most every day 
That they know I'm safe from danger, 

Jest as in the U. S. A. 
But they keep right on a-sayin' 

That they're always, always prayin' 
In an awful funny way 

That I can't believe in. No ! 
When you're prayin', you're a-knowin' 

An' you know all that you know. 

Paris, France, 
December 23, 1918. 

60 



PRESS ON 
"NO THANKS TO ME" 

(The following is the substance of a greeting to a woman war 
relief worker by the Commanding General of the A. E. F. in 
the entrance court of one of the Army hospitals in France) 

"No thanks to me! These are the men who 
fought. 
Let everyone remember this," he said. 
"Thanks be to them! Let all the world be 
taught 
This lesson," and his gesture fairly took 
Each private's hand. We noted in his still 
And forceful way and in his loving look 
Something there was that reverenced God's 

will. 

"Thanks to the women who have come to give 

A hand-clasp or a soothing word of cheer. 

Their skillful hands have let our soldiers live 

And helped us win this battle over here." 

These were his words. We heard them, every 
one. 
And grasped his hand, and looked into his 
face. 
He knew, our General, that war was won. 

The ground we trod on was an holy place. 
The war was won and yet we could not voice 
The least of thanks to him, but well we 
knew 
His words had made each wounded man re- 
joice. 
"No thanks to me!" We saw just why he 
drew 
His armies ever on to victory 

61 



PRESS ON 

'Gainst him, a nameless one, who ever 
cried, 
"All thanks to me!" Why should we not be 
freed 
By soldiers who, though wounded, have not 
died? 
They still look up with blinded eyes that see. 
Though they be dead, they live, and see 
not, free 
The world, because they say: "No thanks 
to me!" 
And now that Armageddon's war is done 
All deeds on earth shall yet be wrought this 
way, 
"No thanks to me !" Truth's mighty pow'r 

has won, 
All thanks to Principle eternally. 

Neuilly, France, November 9, 1918. 



PEACE 

To work and wait for peace, — such is the 

rest 
I ever seek. 'Tis always sweet and blest — 

To work and wait for peace. 



62 



TRAVEL ORDERS 



ADJUSTED 



I had almost the hull of the blamed debt paid 

On the place when I come away, 
And fixin' this coming fall to get made 

A silo for corn and hay. 
But, somehow, I often wonder 

Why I never think over here 
Of the things that are over yonder. 

Why, sometimes, I almost fear 
I am losin' my pride of the silo. 

And the barn and the cows and the gram. 
Shucks, I'm wonderin' often if I'll know 

The way to farm it again. 

I was proud of the hay and the com field. 

I was proud of the oats and the sheep. 
I was proud of capacity crop yield. 

But now I'm f eelin' most cheap 
Since I'm fig'rin' on dumb Leagues of Na- 
tions, 

What the U. S. will stand for and sich. 
I'm proud o'er improved post-war rations. 

Over France's a-gettin' rich. 
Over England's bottlin' and keepin' 

The subs that has gone fer aye. 
And never onct am I reapin' 

In my thinkin' the harvest and hay. 
I'll be glad, though, when folks is done giving 

What a whole world should do, and I know 
If we keep busy this earth will keep living 

And growing in righteousness, too. 
Yep, peace is established, I'm thinkin' 



68 



1 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

When I return to my farm and my debt, 
When I*m mindin* my business and blinkin' 

O'er my own fire at home, don't forget. 
1*11 be glad when this dumb war is over 

To go back to my farm and my wife. 
I'll go back to my com and my clover. 

And stick there, believe me, f er life ! 

Paris, France, 
December 23, 1919. 

PARLEZ-VOUS FRANCAIS 

Monsieur, parlez-vous f rancais ? 

— Not just in the way 

They do in Paree but it's so 

I can say: Montrez-moi 

La Rue Dontcherknow, 

And the Frenchman can see what I saw. 

You speak French, I am sure? 

— Not the kind to endure 

At the Sorbonne for doctors of law. 

You speak French now so well? 

You were wounded and fell 

In France for the cause of mankind ? 

— ^The French which I speak 

Is mild, gentle and meek. 

You never, no never could find 

A hero like me 

Who for every fast moving-picture sen- 
tence of equaUte, fratemite and liberte, 

Answers meekly and gently and simply, 
"Oui, oui, oui, oui." 

64 



1 



PRESS ON 

'WHO IS MY MOTHER?" 

Who is my mother ? Who are sisters, friends ? 
Thus asked he who was called The Prince of 

Peace. 
And to such questions, Truth forever sends 
This wondrous answer, He who does the will 
Of Him in heav'n is mother, sister, friend. 
Truly ye have received, then freely lend 
And take not back again thy loan, but give 
All, all of self. Give all! Forever live! 

THE TRUTH IS NOT BETRAYED 

"I speak not of you all," the Master said 

For just the briefest moment, then he saw 
That only one betrayed him. He had fed 
The multitudes, yet was betrayed. God's 
law 
Is now fulfilled. A world cannot betray 
One rule recorded therein. In God's way 
And time He hath led all men here to see 
The Truth is not betrayed hence all are free. 



THE PEACE OF STILLED APPETITES 

She has no appetite for aught but good, 
America. Thus shall earth's brotherhood 
Be lifted high o'er self and war and fear. 
God bless each pilgrim who has journeyed 

here 
From every country of the earth for peace 
Of self's stilled appetites. God, grant them 

these ! 

65 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

CANDY'S CANDY 
Boys, I've got a box of candy 

Sent me from the U. S. A., 
And it comes in mighty handy, 

Candy does most any day. 
It hain't much to brag of either, 

Jest hard candy that'll keep, 
But I wouldn't swap it, either 

If it is jest plain and cheap. 
'Tain't so much that someone bought it, 

Wrapped it, sent it on to me, 
'Tain't so much that someone thought it 

Would be cheery as kin be. 
Boys, I'll tell the truth about it 

Why I am so fond of it. 
And I know you'll never doubt it 

Fer I'll let you taste of it. 
Hain't no sentiment about me. 

Candy's candy, fair and square. 
Don't you question, don't you doubt me 

If I offer you a share. 
Candy's candy but it's never 

Quite the same unless some guy 
Is a sharin' it forever. 

Take a piece. Aw, take another, 
Here's some candy, have a try! 
Take another while you can. 

Makes you think of home and mother, 
Every blessed soldier-man. 

Candy's candy; better eat it 
While it's lasting. Let 'er go. 

Candy's candy. Kin ye beat it 
Not a feller answers, "NO I" 

Paris, France, December 23, 1918. 

66 



PEESS ON 



A HYMN 

A hyinn I did not know was with me when 

I watched in No Man's Land, 
A hymn I sang forever and 'twas then 

I Knew I was not wounded. There, God's 
hand 
Traced every word my human memory 

Had lost— yes, traced it on earth's sky 
Until I knew and sang and thought alway 

God's blest protection. Father, I know why 
I was not wounded. 

GIVING COMMANDMENTS 

Truth gives command what words of love to 

say 
And all that I should do throughout today. 
Truth gives command. 



67 



TRAVEL ORDERS 
AFTER THE WAR— A VEGETARIAN? 

(A sermon preached by a private at a dinner at Hotel Mirabeau, 
Paris, France.) 

Beef? We NEVER have it in the Army. 

Oh, no, 
I'm not kiddin*. We don't. It's chevaux. 
I pay the bills and I orter know. 
I'm pay sergeant here, I guess I am, 
And you don't palm off any old sham 
On me. Officer goes out every week, 
Counts every hoof, and mild and meek, 
I draw the checks for every horse 
I eat. Believe me, that food is coarse. 
Satan never would serve in hell 
Such dope to his imps! Oh, gee, don't tell 
I've kicked in the Army. Not till now 
Did I ever stir up a single row, 
And this isn't serious. Oh, my, no ! 
I pay for each horse and then I go 
To mess. I'm rushed right in and rushed 

right out. 
I eat without time to think. No doubt. 
It's far, far better and wiser. No ! 
If I thought, I'd go to a restaurant, go. 
And get some legumes. As I set at mess 
My thought is in Timbuctoo, I guess. 
When I go home, I'll never care 
If they don't dish up horsemeat anywhere. 
By gracious, it's true, I'm telling you 
You eat here without thinking. It's some- 
thing to do 
Fer a world. I'll say, it's a cinch, 
You don't become gourmands, not on a pinch ! 



68 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

An' it makes you feel sorter glad inside 

To set down and chew on any old hide, 

An' get away with the stunt and be happy 

and free. 
Mebby salvation f er you an' fer me 
Is right here in France. Sure, if we kin show 
In eatin' the rankest of old cheveau 
No resentment, then, mebby, we will be 
Saints here on earth. Think so ? Believe me. 
Salvation may not be so fur away. 
Mebby right now is the jedgement day. 
When nobody's killin' at all fer food 
Monkeys or horses, now hain't that good? 
When I git home I kin look square in the 

face 
Every cow and sheep and pig on the place 
Especially so now that I know 
I've had my fill of horse-meat — cheveau! 
After the war, there may be less 
Or more of complaining. Who km guess? 

Paris, France, 
December 25, 1918. 



69 



PRESS ON 

STUPID HABIT 

"Free me from stupid habits," prayed a 
world. 
America arose and dashed a glass 

Of sin-cursed whisky from each hand. She 
hurled 
It from the hands of all here. Let is pass 

Forever in oblivion, — ^the curse 
Of stupid habit. 

THE SERVANTS IN MY HOME 

The servants in my home are guests, and so 

As throngs of loving friends, they come and 
go 

And serve themselves and give and read and 
rest; 

There is no servant save the passing guest. 



70 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

A DEBATE BETWEEN A SERGEANT 
AND A PRIVATE 

Subject: Who Won the War? 

Sergeant — 

We come over and won the war ! 

Private — 

We didn't do no sech thing ! 

Sergeant — 

He charged me ten francs too much, by 

far. 
0, them blamed, stingy Frogs ! Biff ! Bing ! 
We come over and won the war! 

Private — 

We didn't do no sech thing ! 

The war hain't over, I'm tellin' you 

Till you can't be hurt by a franc or two. 

You might fall dead, too, anyway. 

If your wound about francs is deep. I'll 

say 
When you actually have made up your mind 
That a Frenchman's charges are always 

kind, 
When Americans gladly give every one 
Of their francs to the French then the war 

is done, — 
Then we've won the war! 



71 



PRESS ON 
REPATRIATED 

(Two word-pictures of returning French prisoners of war, fellow 
compartment travellers on a journey from Dunkerque to 
Paris.) 

(First Picture) 

They came from Germany. Patient and true 
Had they become through all those wait- 
ing years, 
Simple as children, offering to you 
And me their prison fare. The gruesome 
fears 
Of Prussian hardships had not left a trace 
Except of tender kindness on each face. 
They came from Germany, French soldiers, 
they. 
Simple as children, loving, gentle, gay. 
God grant that they may reach their homes 
and rest 
Secure in Love's protected, sheltered nest. 

(Second Picture) 

I saw again the very eyes and face 

Of Jesus, he who lived in Galilee, — 
So like an older brother, the same grace 

Of manner of the one who spoke to free 
All men from fear. I asked : "Who is, indeed. 

This older brother?" It was one who came 
From Prussian prison camp. The very need 

Of patient love had giv'n a new name 
To him. He was a simple, Christ-like man, 

A soldier fashioned after Love's best plan. 

72 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

I WAS ALWAYS A LITTLE BACKWARD 

I was always a little backward in school, 

And when I come into the Army, 

I sez to me: 

"There hain't no use always in bein' a fool, 

Be as smart as a soldier kin be." 

They made me almost at onct a K. P. 

I was always a little backward. I had 

A lot of fear and pride as a lad 

So when I come into the Army, I sez to me: 

*'Be important as you kin e'er be." 

They made me almost at onct a K. P. 

I peeled potatoes and I likewise boiled rice 

Feelin' important, dignified, nice 

Fer sez I : "There hain't a single doughboy 

Who isn't all puffed up with joy 

When he sets down to mess," 

So I'm makin' a guess 

I've got the most important job, you see, 

In all this bloomin' Armee, 

Ain't I not? 

When they made me without pullin' a single, 

blamed string 
A K. P. ? 



73 



PRESS ON 



REBUILT CITIES OF FRANCE AND 
BELGIUM 

Those dear, blest cities, torn with war's mad 

rage. 
Are lifted to Jerusalem. Truth's page 
Hath written well of all they have built high 
Away from sin and self to heav'n high, 
On earth. 

THE WORKERS OF THE WORLD 

Each one on earth working alone for good, 
Each day of every year, is understood. 
As God's unbending law. 



74 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

MY CHRISTMAS PRESENT 

I had a Christmas present sent to me, 

A nine by a four by a three. 
Sent my label home but, believe me, 

I was 'sprised and tickled as I could be 
By this nine by a four by a three. 

Dad sent a ring, Masonic, I'll say. 
In this nine by a four by a three. 

That he treated me right and any day 
He don't, I'll send the Masons to pray 

Him to take better keer of me. 

The ring was too large I got. Oh, my! 

In this nine by a four by a three. 
I took it to the jeweller and he'll try 

To have it at least by Saterdee, — 
It'll look real swell on me. 

Mother sent socks and candy too 
In this nine by a four by a three. 

And handkerchiefs that is handy, too. 
A mother knows always what to do. 

She's bully, I'll say to you. 

My girl sent gloves and they were stole 
From this nine by a four by a three, 

And where they should be there was just a 
hole 
And mebby her love to me. 

Where the gloves should be, there was jest a 
hole 
In this nine by a four by a three, 

75 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

Where cigars Dad stuffed in could roll and 
roll 
And never be smoked by me. 

They was busted of course and jammed into 
pie, 

In this nine by a four by a thre- 
I didn't jest need 'em but I would try 

'Em if they was whole, you kin bet yer eye, 
Bet an5^hing on me ! 

'Twas a shame to waste 'em, and that was it, 
In this nine by a four by a three. 

If Sister had packed it, you kin bet it'ud fit. 
This nine by a four by a three. 

Believe me, I've told them fer I have rit 
Them cigars wasn't smoked by me. 

Sister kin pack a trunk full of junk 

In a nine by a four by a three. 
She could put in a suitcase, a ton. In a trunk 

A carload. Her packing, it is not punk. 
An' I'm sure it'ud got to me. 

But the strangest thing I have ever knew — 
Not a nine by a four by a three — 

But other things has never come through, 
Sweaters, socks, Bible and wrist-watch, 

too, — 
Never got through to me. 

Thinking it over, I'm ruther glad 
That this nine by a four by a three 



76 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

Had a hole where the gloves and cigars 
should have had 
To rest. No, it isn't bad 
That they never got through to me. 

I'm getting a slave to cigars. I vow, 

This nine by a four by a three 
Played me a game that I'm needing now 

So there's no use starting a fuss or a row 
That the things didn't come to me. 

I hain't a slave to horse-meat, no. 
So this nine by a four by a three 

Woke me up to kinder know 
That without some things a chap kin go 

An' be feelin' bully and free. 

If the gloves she sent was never stole 
From this nine by a four by a three, 

In the space they rested in, this nook, 
Cigars couldn't rattle. Listen, look. 

They'd have come straight on to me. 

I preach to myself fer I want to get 
From this nine by a four by a three, 

A lesson or two that I can't ferget. 
It's fierce to be slaves. Tobacco yet 

Has bossed me a lot, by gee ! 

An' when I think them cigars there was. 
In this nine by a four by a three 

All smashed to thunder, I say it does 

Look like it was done fer a worthy cause 

An' mebby to set me free. 

77 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

It must have been that my girl sent me 
In this nine by a four by a three, 

A lot of love to protect and free, 

Even though her gloves they was stole, by 
gee! 

From this nine by a four by a three. 

(The above is a sermon, almost verbatim, preached by a 
sergeant at a Christmas Eve dinner at Hotel Maribeau, Paris. 
The audience was the war worker at the sergeant's left.) 

THE FIRST SIGHT OF THE OLD PLACE 

Ha, ha, it looks the same, the same old place, 

Greener and better ! It was Fall when I 
Left home. Ha, ha, the same old space 
Between the orchard and the house. I'd 
try 
In France to measure everything 

Back here, spaces and sod and house and 
bam. I know 
I measured just to see if I could bring 

It back. I used to see it as I left it when 
The grass was flecked with the first Autumn 
snow. 
Ha, ha, I'm glad it's Spring. To see again 
The earth awakening is good, I vow. 

I'm glad I'm done with war and woe and 
pain. 
I'm glad I'm back. I'm glad that it is now! 

United States of America, 
June 8, 1919. 



78 



PRESS ON 

A HOME-BOUND TROOP SHIP 

I saw a home-bound troop ship sail today 
From England and I knew the war was 
won, 
A troop ship sailing gladly on its way 
To the new continent. God's will was 
done, 
And peace had come to reign again on earth. 

I saw a troop ship sail away today, 
Laden with tasks completed and the worth 
Of service. Then I knew that those who 
pray 
At home are well rewarded. Then, indeed, 
I saw Love's vision as earth's only creed. 

I saw a troop ship sailing o'er the sea 

From England and I heard the song they 
sang. 
Those British people: "God's love be with 
thee 
Until we meet again," the promise rang 
With Christlike tenderness, and, then, I 
knew 
For the first time the glory of the task 
That England's love had wrought. Her brave 
fleet, true 
To Principle bore all war's need could ask. 
1 saw a west-bound troop ship, then, indeed, 
I knew that peace eternal is earth's creed. 

I saw a west-bound troop ship setting sail 

From England and I praised the God of all. 
Love's universal service could not fail. 



79 



PRESS ON 

I saw the troops who answered a world's 
call, 
And heard kind, English voices sing a song 
Of fond farewell which made two nations 
one. 
Uniting all the earth. I saw that wrong 
Had no more sway since God's will now is 
done. 
Earth's creed of peace enfoldeth all today. 
I saw a homebound troop ship sail away. 

Liverpool, April 3, 1919. 



ONE DAY OF GRATITUDE 

One day of gratitude is all I ask, — 
One day of thanking God, — 
Then every task 
Is finished. 



80 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

I HAIN'T NEVER GOIN' BACK TO THE 
SAME, OLD CONVENTIONS 

I hain't never goin' back to the same, old 

conventions — 
Not in America. Believe me! 
No introducin' agin' f er me, 
An' f earin' to speak lest ye don't speak right, 
An' risin' in momin' an' sleepin' at night. 
I hain't never goin' back to the same, old 

conventions. 

I hain't never goin' back to the same, old 

conventions. 
If I need to eat, I will eat right then 
If I kin find the food. Then agen, 
If I want to make of the night a day, 
I'll do it, by gracious, you watch me. Say, 
I hain't never goin' back to the same, old 

conventions. 

I hain't never goin' back to the same, old 

conventions. 
If I want to choose a girl for a pal 
Jest like a brother, you bet I shall. 
An' I'll treat her square, you kin stake yer 

life 
Fer we reverence wimmin in Army life. 
I hain't never goin' back to the same, old 

conventions. 

I hain't never goin' back to the same, old 

conventions. 
Walkin' the street, if I see a man 

81 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

I may be askin* him if he can 
Tell me, please, where street So-and-so be. 
Gee whiz ! I may ask in Amerikee, 
Jest as we're doin' in gay Paree. 
I hain't never goin' back to the same, old 
conventions. 

I hain't never goin' back to the same, old 

conventions. 
If I board a street car on Christmas day 
And see a strange lady, I may say : 
"I hain't had no turkey ner Christmas tree 
Back in America, and, believe me, 
I think I'll go, if you're askin', see. 
Home with you fer dinner. Why shouldn't 

I be?" 
I hain't never goin' back to the same, old 

conventions. 

I hain't never goin' back to the same, old 

conventions. 
'Merican wimmin in Paris I've never seen 
Are stoppin' and askin' where I've been 
At home in the States and I'll say. Gee whiz ! 
It's a corkin' world to live like this 
With the inspiration of a smile 
From 'Merican wimmin onct in a while. 
I hain't never goin' back to the same, old 

conventions. 

I hain't never goin' back to the same, old 

conventions. 
I hain't wantin' anything over here 

82 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

But a smile from someone I don't know or 

keer 
If I see agin. A canteen spread 
With jam and doughnuts and good, white 

bread 
Is heav'n enough in France. My hat! 
We're thankful for jest such things as that. 
I hain't never goin' back to the same, old 

conventions. 

I hain't never goin' back to the same, old 

conventions. 
I'm wantin' to know every girl I meet, 
Every man and woman and child on the 

street. 
I've learned when I hadn't a home to be 
In that fam'ly, home and church to me 
Is smilin' and speakin' to everyone. 
It's a great, old war we fought ! I'm done 
Ferever with the same, old conventions. 

Paris, France, 
December 27, 1918. 



83 



PRESS ON 



A PRAYER 

Just give me time to know my fellow men, 
Each one of them through all life's devious 

ways. 
Just give me time to know each one so when 
I pass his way again in future days, 
I may be glad to greet him as a friend. 
And give him aught or ask of him to lend. 
give me time to know each one and then 
To pass again along the way of each 
And every one of them, my fellow-men. 

Just give me time to greet each one and 
reach 

Far out and clasp his hand though it be far 

Across the sea. Just give me time, I pray. 

From night until the dawn of morning star 

To know and love my fellow-men each day. 



84 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

I LOST MY BIBLE AT CHATEAU- 
THIERRY 

I lost my Bible at Chateau-Thierry. 

I knew it was all up with me. 
I hadn't a chance, and I nary 

Was wantin' one either. I be 
Tired of fightin' and goin' 

A-hatin* from momin' till night. 
I wasn't objectin' but knowin' 

That fightin' and scrappin' hain't right. 
I lost my Bible at Chateau-Thierry. 

I lost my Bible at Chateau-Thierry, 

The one Mother gave when I came 
Over to France just to bury 

Bill Kaiser and git quite a name. 
The minute I lost it, a-whizzin' 

Come a Fritz shell and located me. 
It was sort of a question-mark quizzin' 

Jest where my good lungs orter be. 
I lost my Bible at Chateau-Thierry. 

I lost my Bible at Chateau-Thierry. 

"Good-bye, boys, I'm done for," I shouted. 
I thought : Brother fell yesterday. 

It's tough on my mother ! I doubted 
If she ever could stand it this way. 

I was picked up, I guess, and brought flyin' 
In a Henry to gay, old Paree, 

And laid in a hospital, dyin', 
As fast as a feller could be. 

I lost my Bible at Chateau-Thierry. 

86 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

I lost my Bible at Chateau-Thierry. 

The next day, I guess, I was givin' 
My own life that seemed like a fairy 

Tale told. I was dyin', not livin' 
When the head nurse speaks softly. Sez she : 

"There's a war worker here from your city, 
Dear John Boy," she speaks thus to me, 

"And it is a blessing and pity 
She can talk to your mother and be 

A comfort in telling she saw you, 
This last day, my Boy, you were here. 

An American woman. It's quite true 
She can give you some good, old, home cheer." 
I lost my Bible at Chateau-Thierry. 

"I lost my Bible at Chateau-Thierry," 

That was all I could say when she came, 
This woman who stopped at my cot-side, — 

I don't even remember her name. 
I gasped : "Tell my mother her son died 

Fer a world and I thank her again 
Fer the Bible she giv' me in leavin' 

My home, and I know that my pain 
Was eased. Tell her not to be grievin'." 
I lost my Bible at Chateau-Thierry. 

I lost my Bible at Chateau-Thierry. 

In the Army no one can be saying 
What's comin'. I expected some prayin* 

But this woman surprised me, I'll tell you. 
"John," she shouted, "this thing is a lie ! 

You came from my town? Then you're 
game, too, 
A fighter who never will die. 

86 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

What if you lost your Bible at Chateau- 
Thierry ? 
There are Bibles in the world! You should 

care." 
She looked like an angel, a fairy 
But she spoke with a dare-devilish dare. 

"I lost my Bible at Chateau-Thierry." 

"It is not true at all" replied she, 
This woman who looked like a fairy, 

"You can't lose the Lord's prayer!" Oh, 
gee, 
How I loved her and feared her and thought I : 

Is she Pershing to talk thus to me? 
I knew that the notion that I'd die 

Was a-slippin' away. I could see 
That this woman wouldn't speak to my 
mother 

About my dyin' at all. 
I knew that she would about Brother 

And where he was choosin' to fall 
Out where I lost my Bible at Chateau- 
Thierry. 

"I lost my Bible at Chateau-Thierry," 
I said darin'-like jest onct more. 

It was surely a wail but I nary 
Loved Bibles 'fore comin' to war. 

"Say the Lord's prayer," she yelled, and I 
said it. 
"Say it louder," she shouted in glee. 



87 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

''Stick to it to-day, yes, jest wed it, 

You can't lose the Lord's prayer, you see 
If you think that you're some short on 
breathing. 

Say the Lord's prayer. Get into the game, 
And command old Dis-Ease to be leaving, 

The devil and he are the same." 
Them wimmin war workers, I'm sayin' 

Was brave both in fightin' and prayin'. 

An' will you believe me, I said it 

All day, that blamed, bloomin' Lord's 
prayer. 
It seemed like a bride and I wed it. 

An' I'll say that it treated me square. 
I'm goin' back home with the first lot 

They are shippin' and, gee, that suits me ! 
"Did I die, then?" you ask. Well, I did not. 

I'm fit f er the trenches, I be ! 

That woman came twict more to see me. 

That American woman, the one 
Who rounded me hotly. I'll say. Gee! 

When I knew her, she was lots of fun. 
She brought me a Bible the first day, 

A brown leather one, awful sweet. 
I cuddled it closely and then, say, 

I slipped it safe under my sheet. 
The next time she brung me a letter 

My own mother wrote and, I'll say. 
This woman wrote Mother: "John's better," 

The day I was passing away. 



88 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

Was she Pershing? I'm never quite know- 
ing, 
Or was she an angel from God? 
My lungs is a-shouting and blowing, 

And I do not lie under the sod. 
If she's Pershing, I'll bet you a dollar. 

She's stricter than he is, by gee. 
And that she would raise a big holler 
If a soldier hain't dressed to a tee. 
I'm glad to be up, to be flyin' 
About. That bed, though, believe me was 
fine! 
I'm glad that I'm livin', not dyin' 

An' I'm glad that I have shoes to shine. 
They say my brother laughed as he fell as if 
he made up his mind 
To be glad as could be with the task they 

assigned 
To him. 

I've still got a Bible so I guess that I nary 
Lost my Bible or anyone or anything at all 
at Chateau-Thierry. 

Auteuil, Paris, France, 
December 26, 1918. 
Hospital Number Five. 



89 



PRESS ON 

FREEING GERMAN PRISONERS 
I saw you on the roads of France, you men, 

You prisoners, garbed ever just the same 
In greyish green; and seeing you, again 

After long years of war, I knew the shame 
Of nation hating nation was no more. 

I saw you ever on the roads of France, 
And, seeing you, I gave all men their due. 

All men upon this earth are free ! The chance 
Of freemen has not passed away from you ! 

And when I reached America once more 

Always the vision of you grey-green men 
Was with me. In the market place, before 

Assemblies, in the office and, too, when 
I sat at table with my wife and child. 

If I were tempted there to speak one word 
Of warring condemnation, always you, 

You grey-green men rose up as if you 
heard. 
And, seeing you, I gave a tender, true 

Reply. 
I saw you ever on those roads, you men, 

You slaves of centuries of warring hate. 
Again I see you visioned here, and, when 

I need to love, it is as if you wait. 
You grey-green, burdened creatures just to 
show 

The nothingness of hate and war and pain. 
I see you still upon earth's roads and know 

That I must speak with tenderness to gaiii 
Your freedom. 

United States of America, 
June 8, 1919. 

90 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

I'M GLAD SHE'S A GIRL 

If I've got to wear one the Baby has, too, 

So I bought her this cute Croix de Guerre. 
The ribbon is bright and the cross is so new ! 

She'll be wearin' it 'round everywhere. 
I'll say she deserves it as much as I do. 

Deserves it far more than her Dad, 
So I bought her this medal and I'll say to 
you, 

I'll wager the Kiddie'll be glad. 

I never have seen that dear, little tad 

Except on this cardboard, you know, 
I sailed two months before, and I'll say I was 
glad 
When I heard she had come. Even so 
If she was just a girl when I hoped right 
along 
She would sure be a boy when she came. 
I was glad just the same and I sang a real 
song 
Even though she could not bear my name. 

No ! Mike hain't a name for a girl any day, 
Though her Daddy's a corp'ral, please 
note; 
And so my wife wrote: "Her name's Mil- 
dred." I'll say 
Those two first letters stuck in my throat. 
So I sang all the day: "Mike, Mildred, Hur- 
ray! 



91 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

I'm glad for a girl, yes, it's true." 
IVe been glad for two years, been glad every 
day 
She's a girl, I am telling to you. 

The cuteness of this — this new Croix de 
Guerre ! 

I will pin it right here on her dress. 
I can see her toddlin' about as she'll wear 

It as proud as her father, I guess. 
I like the idee, far better you see 

Than wearing my own. I declare, 
I'm glad she's a girl and can go 'round with 
me 

Wearing her own Croix de Guerre. 



92 



PRESS ON 

ENGLAND'S PLEDGE 

She kept her pledge to Belgium ! This song 
A free earth sings throughout each day 
and night. 
She paid her pledge when it fell due. The 
wrong 
Of evil could not turn her from the might 
Of her true word. This sceptered nation 
hurled 
Her all into Love's scale with naught to 
gain 
Except the freedom of a fearful world 

From war and wrong and poverty and pain. 
She saw the vision of a glad earth blest 
With lasting peace, with heaven's work 
and rest. 
Her pledge was paid in full when it fell due. 
The word she gave to Belgium was true. 

She kept her pledge to Belgium ! Her men 
Fought valiently in Flanders' mud and 
rain; 
Her women sought the tasks of slaves again. 
All England paid that no more war or pain 
Should strike at earth. The vision of the 
King 
Who reigns o'er all, she saw by night and 
day — 
A world redeemed from fear and suffering. 

Her battle cry became the words we pray : 
"Thine is the kingdom !" This her bugle call, 

98 



PRESS ON 

**Thy kingdom come" — thus England fought 

for all, 
And paid in full her pledge when it fell 

due. 
Thank God, her word to Belgium was true ! 

Paris, France, 
January 25, 1919. 



TRUE UNDERSTANDING FRIENDS 

Out of the war, true understanding friends 
Were bom, nation for nation, man for man. 

Whoever freely gives and gladly lends 
Was bom of peace, indeed, in war, and can 

Have life eternal here if he will choose 
The good and ever watch now to refuse 

All evil. 



94 



TRAVEL ORDERS 
I DROVE A SOLDIER HOME ONE DAY 

I drove a soldier home one day, and I 

Stopped at the kitchen door and let him 
out. 
I was ashamed ! I really had to try 

To keep from crying when I heard them 
shout 
Their welcome, — all the little children ran 

And fell upon his neck. The mother stood 
Within the vine-wreathed door. He was a 
man, 
This soldier, so I turned my car about ; 
I knew I'd have to treat him as one grown. 
Why should I weep? I had, indeed, no 
doubt 
That all of them were happy. Had I known 
One hour like this! Had my son, too, re- 
turned ! 
Such were the traitor thoughts I spurned 
that day. 
I never knew before how much I yearned 
To see that grave in Flanders far away. 
But looking up through clearer eyes, then I 
Saw that which stilled the yearning in my 
heart, — 
A rainbow brightly shining in the sky; 
''From God's beloved son no one can 
part," — 
Such was the legend of the rainbow sign. 

I know now God's beloved son and mine 
Are deathless, joyous, active, ever free. 
No grave in Flanders beckons now to me. 

United States of America, June 8, 1919. 

96 



PRESS ON 

I SAW THE GOLD STAR MOTHERS 

I saw the gold star mothers and the wives 

Of comrades and I couldn't help but smile 
And be exceeding glad for all the lives 

That had defied earth's battlefields and 
while 
I, too, marched down the street, I had to say. 

Just to myself, of course: "I am so glad 
For all those mothers and those wives today. 

If each one knew the blessing she has 
had!" 

I can't explain to anyone why I, 

Since fighting, always see the other side. 
Sad things are glad to me. I cannot cry 
For grieving ones. This world so far and 
wide 
Teaches us lessons and the war has come 
To teach me many that I should have 
known. 

I weep for mothers when their sons come 
home 
And laugh for those who have to live alone. 

I weep and laugh, not as the world would 
weep 
Or laugh, for, over there, we always said 
Some witty thing each time the guns would 
keep 
Us from our talking. No one e'er fell dead 



96 



PRESS ON 

Except when joking there, and so, I knew 
That in this world back here, we must have 
turned 
Things upside down. It's true, I'm telHng 
you. 
In the parade, I really, truly yearned 
To laugh aloud when I beheld them there, 
The gold star mothers and the wives of those 

Who joked until the end. I cannot care! 
I saw my comrades jolly Death! They chose 
The hardest place and laughed within the 
line. 
And so I laugh again and joking say. 
As if to them: ''Comrades, your wives, it's 
right, 
And gold star mothers make me laugh to- 
day." 

United States of America, 
May 20, 1919. 



97 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

THE CONVERSION OF MISS JONES, 
MAIDEN LADY 

"I have no one who's over in the war 

And I am lonesome," wrote Miss Jones to 
me, 
My teacher in the Sunday School. "Not far 

Away is France ! If it could only be 
That I might have a son or nephew there, 

Someone I knew, how often I would write ! 
I want some letters starting out, 'Somewhere 

In France/ If I just had a son now in the 
fight 

Or brother or a cousin, I can see 

It wouldn't, couldn't make it half so bad." 
This was Miss Jones's letter. I said: "Gee, 

I somehow, someway wish that Miss Jones 
had 
A son or brother over here in France." 

It seemed, somehow, that it is fair to all 
To have one relative who gits a chance 

To answer at our Uncle Sammie's call. 
There's Miss Jones, anyway three-score and 
ten. 

Who's wishin' now she'd had a son to go, 
At last Miss Jones kin see that men is men 

And usefuller than anyone kin know. 



98 



PRESS ON 



HOSPITALITY 

Just give yourself to all mankind each day 
And this is breaking bread with them. The 

way 
Of service is to give all, — give, not lend 
To everyone you meet. To be a friend 
Is hospitality. 



HOME AND SERVICE 

A house will shelter no one, but a home 
Is safe abiding place. Its sheltering dome 
Is broad and high. A table spread with food 
And served with menial hands is never good. 
True meat and drink is giving all men need 
With thine own hand, — this, then, is bread 
indeed. 



99 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

"BE PATIENT WITH ME," SAID 
BROTHER 

"Be patient with me," said Brother, 

"Till I'm used to living here 
In this house of brick another 

Has built. I somehow fear 
To lose the dream that is fading. 

That dwelling which no man's hand 
Has built — the home I was spading 

Each night in No Man's Land. 

"I never knew its beauty 

Till I came back again. 
I built under lash of duty 

And often, too, the pain 
Of sleeplessness and fearing 

The sound of the guns on high ; 
But through it all, I was hearing 

A comrade's laugh or cry. 
And when one laughed, then I laughed, too,- 

At night they laughing, fell; 
And when one cried then I chaffed, too, 

I knew that all was well. 
So I built my house each night there, 

Out where the guns swept past. 
I knew that I had a right there 

And calmly slept at last. 

"I slept when the guns were crying, 
Slept when the guns were still, 

I slept when the guns were sighing 
Over my head. I will 

Try to rest content and dwell here," 



100 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

My brother said and sighed, 
**In a house which is as still here 
As if a world had died. 

"It was so real in that land there, 

It was so real and true. 
I could touch a comrade's hand there 

At night, and, then, I knew 
That we watched, we two, together 

For better times to come. 
We would laugh and groan together — 

This was our human home. 

Oh, the stars oft'times shone bright there. 

Way out in No Man's Land. 
We knew that we had a right there 

To touch another's hand. 

"Be patient with me," said Brother, 

"Till I'm used to living here. 
In this house of brick another 

Has built. I somehow fear 
To lose the dream that is fading — 

That dwelling which no man's hand 
Has built — ^the home I was spading 

Each night in No Man's Land. 

United States of America, 
May 24, 1919. 



101 



PRESS ON 

MY MOTHER 

My mother smiled so when I marched away 

And wept when I came back, 

And, yet, I know just how she felt. I'll say, 

There wasn't any lack 

Of welcome in the tears my mother shed. 

I know my mother ! When she smiled, she led 

Me to believe it was a joyous day. 

My mother smiled so when I marched away! 

My mother stood so near me in the line 
When we marched up the street. 
I never had a scratch. Am feeling fine. 
In action sixty days ! I thought she'd greet 
Me with a smile. She cried and turned 

away. 
But how she smiled and cheered that other 

day 
When I was leaving home! I know that she 
Smiled when she felt the very saddest, too, 
And wept when she was gladdest. Wish you 

knew 
My mother! 

United States of America, May 18, 1919. 



102 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

I WAS IN PARIS WHEN THE ARMISTICE 
WAS SIGNED 

I was in Paris when the Armistice was 

signed. 
It was a quiet day for me. I stood 
Above on Rue St. Honore, and I 
Wondered what I would do ! Earth's brother- 
hood 
Had been my wounded child so long ! My cry 
Was smothered. I must be exceeding glad, 
I knew, else I were traitor. Dear God, why 
Is this the saddest day I ever had? — 
I asked myself — Nothing to do! I pray 
To gladly lay down all this work, and may 
I enter in the joy of those who go 
Freed from earth's war about these streets. 

I know 
It is a traitor's sin, — this stifled cry. 
Others rejoice in peace, and why not I? 
I am not wanting war. I want a task 
As great as heaven itself. For this, I ask 
And I shall be content. I ask no more 
Of separation, want or woe or war. 
Yes, on that day I watched the crowds surge 

past 
Below. I knew that peace had come at last. 
I was in Paris when the Armistice was 
signed. 

Paris, France, 
November 11, 1918. 



108 



PRESS ON 
JOY AND SERVICE 

(A tribute to England's War Premier and her men) 

Always through days of stress, a sad world 
said 
"From whence, then, hath this man this 
living spring 
Of joy?" It seemed as if the very dead 
From battlefields had lent a wondrous 
thing 
To him, — to ever bear up while they gave 
Their human lives, and, thus, a whole world 
cried : 
'Their mantle fell upon him hence the grave 
Hath no more victory. They have not died. 
The mantle of their wondrous joy in life 

Hath fallen on his shoulders. Now he can 
Press on and bear earth's burdens in the 
strife 
Of war and peace — thus England gave the 
world a man 
Of joy." 

England hath ever lent 

Her happiness in bearing a world's cross. 
Her yoke is easy! England, never bent 

Beneath the burdens of a world ! Her loss 
Of human ease hath been her joy, indeed. 

In bearing others' burdens, she became 
More joyous still. In meeting a world's need, 

Her sons have earned in war and peace the 
fame 
Of joy. 

104 



PRESS ON 

This joyous Leader lets a whole world see 
The face of England. England and her 
men 
Are ever one. A waking world, now free, 
Hath borrowed joy of them. Earth's yoke 
again 
Is easy. England's love hath handed down. 
To all mankind, the sceptered, jewelled 
crown 
Of joy and service. 



WHY SHOULD I NOT? 

Why should I not rejoice at everything 
Even Truth's moulding as life's chisel rings, 
Against my stubborn pride and human will? 
Why should I not rejoice, and say 
Always with my dear Psalmist friend: "Be 

still, 
And know that I am God?" 



105 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

"BIG BERTHA" 

We've got a great "Big Bertha" on our farm 
Beginning at six each morning to alarm 
Us while we sleep. It whines and whizzes, 

too, 
Its shells past Bill and me. I'll say to you 
We duck our heads below the quilts. I say 
To Bill : "Big Bertha has begun ! A day 
Of war like brother has in France. Oh, gee. 
We'll be destroyed with Paris, I can see." 

We've got a great "Big Bertha" on our farm 
Whining at six each morning. It can harm 
A lot ! My Father calls : "Move on 
You doughboys, there. Sleeping never won 
A war ! The windmill Krupp is fast at work," 

calls he. 
"America's in danger! Can it be 
I have two sons, one eight, another ten 
Who both are slackers. Come, rise up, my 

men." 

"The war is on ! We've got a world to feed. 
Sleeping on sentry guard is grave. You need 
To fear a court martial. A dress parade 
Is on today. The General has made 
Corporals of doughboys. Rise, Krupp's 

shaming you 
To win a service stripe of gold, all new. 
Hardtack and bully beef wait down below. 
The mess hall sergeant's calling. Rise and 

go! 



106 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

If you awake, you can dodge Bertha's 

blows, — 
Sleeping in mustard gas, well, no one knows 
What will become of you !" Our Father said 
All this before we would get up. The bed 
Seemed like a trench we loved but Bertha's 

whine. 
That windmill on our farm, makes us on time 
To feed the calves and get to school each day, 
And that is winning every war, I'll say. 

United States of America, May 17, 1919. 



M. P.'S EVERYWHERE 

I saw an M. P. in Trier, 

Owning the town, and I 
Knew that the world was freer 

For all of his work. I'll try 
To show you how he'd motion 
With his arms. It was strange, I'll say, 
He gave everyone the notion 

That he was there to stay. 

In Trier I saw an M. P. — 

Where the Armistice was signed — 
Beholding him, you could then see 
A world has made up its mind 
To be taking care of Trier 

And all that's over there. 
The world is becoming freer 

With M. P.'s everywhere. 



107 



PRESS ON 

A SOLDIER'S VISION OF TRUE RECON- 
STRUCTION 

(After Armageddon, — a world rebuilt) 

I saw a simple man who toiled and prayed 

In England, hoping, trusting well to build 
The ships our Mother Country's love had 
made 
And given to be lost at sea. Fulfilled 
Was every hope. The ships were standing 
sure — 
Each builded well with all this trustful 
man 
And others, too, were giving. To endure 
Throughout eternity — this was his plan. 
I questioned everyone to answer me: 
"Who is this gentle man who toils to free 

The nations?" But no one could ever tell. 

Of self and deeds, he did not speak one word. 

He toiled, this simple man, yea, long and 

well. 

His hammer, ringing true, was all one heard. 

In Belgium, after the war had past, 

I found again this simple man who went 
Always on humble errands. In the fast 

And moving throngs of people he would 
go, 
And often pause to comfort them. His way 

He chose himself. To heal each human 
woe 
Became his work. And, oft' at close of day 

I saw him fondly take a mother's hand 



108 



PRESS ON 

And tell her that her daughter still does live. 
The nameless shame she bore in that drear 
land 
Which wrought lust's havoc, failed! Love 
does forgive! 
There is no wrong to woman's deathless 
name. 
The mother's heart was comforted, indeed. 
I saw this simple man wipe out the shame 
Of Belgium's torture through his loving 
creed. 

I found in France the nations of the e^rth 
Building the cities that war's hate had 
burned. 
I saw waste farms redeemed, their ancient 
worth 
Increased, and, always, ever as I turned, 
I found this simple man at work to bring 

Order from chaos, never asking more 
Than love for his work and another's too. 
He humbly toiled with hammer and with 
song. 
The very nail he struck went firm and true. 
Both arms and hands at work were clean 
and strong. 
I often asked: 'Who is this simple man 
Whose work is patterned after Love's best 
plan?" 

Throughout America, joy's blest home-land, 
I found again this man who sought his 
good 



109 



PRESS ON 

Among the soldiers who had lost a hand, 
Or limb or eye to save earth's brother- 
hood. 
I saw this simple man go to and fro 

Among the widows, orphans, always 
cheered 
By their true happiness. I longed to know 
His name. I asked not for I somehow 
feared 
To know. There was so much of love he gave 
To those who lent all that all might be 
free. 
I saw him even walking on the wave 

With those who lost their human lives at 
sea. 

I saw him walk and talk with them. I said: 
"I now must know his name ! If he can go 
To every land and build, and raise the dead 
And heal all nations of the world of woe. 
Then I must know." I asked him: "Tell to me 
This might you have to bless and heal and 
free?" 
"What is your name?" "Throughout eter- 
nity. 
No man shall hear again my name," said 
he. 
"I am the one who wrought with clanking 
steel 
Earth's war of hate." I shuddered: "No, 
not you ! 
You, willing to receive, you who can feel 
For others? If this wondrous thing be 
true, 

110 



PRESS ON 

What wrought this change in you?" I 
grasped his arm — 
The withered arm and hand I knew of 
yore — 
And it was strong, and clean, and firm. No 
harm 
Had e'er befallen it. "Tell me before 
The God of heav'n," I cried, "can this be 
you? 
What made you willing to receive, and true 
In giving all to men ?" He paused, not long, 
And answered: "Friend, I saw that I was 
wrong!" 
"Can this be reconstruction? God is good," 
I answered. Said he: "All earth's brother- 
hood 
Shall know the joy of making each wrong 

right, — 
O'er every wrong of earth, 'Let there be 
light'." 



Ill 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

SERVICE OF SUPPLY 

My brother came from France last week, 

and I 
Caught him alone one day and saw him cry, 
And, seeing me, he wiped his tears away. 
And smiled. I understand him and I say : 
"Tell me about your trip across." I try 
Never to mention. Service of Supply. 

My brother came from France last week. He is 
Older and sadder. He is very well. 
I somehow didn't think that just like this 
He would come back to us. He doesn't tell 
Us of one battle but how he did try 
To move on from that Service of Supply. 
And so one day the Major's orders came 
To him to move on to the Front, and he 
Was happy just to have the awful shame 
Removed from him, as happy as could be. 
But when he reached the fighting front that 

day. 
Eleven in the morning. It was then 
November 'Leventh ! My, he turns away 
And wipes his eyes and often, too, he'll try 
To look straight on if some fool youngsters 

cry: 
"Our hero's home from Service of Supply." 

My mother talked to him one night and said : 
"My son, I'm very glad you're home again. 
I could not bear it, dear, if you were dead. 
If you had lost a leg or arm. The pain 
Of selfishness has been my curse for years. 



112 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

You are my sole support, dear noble son, 
I never could endure the awful fears 
Of being left with just this little one." 

She placed her hand upon my head and took 
My brother's hand, too, and I saw her try 
To bear a whole world's selfishness. Her look 
Made heaven of the Service of Supply. 

United States of America, 
May 19, 1919. 



A MIGHTY MAN 

A major saw my brother over there, 

Right on the road to Germany one day. 
Brother's an M. P., always standing where 

The roads divide. My brother points the 
way 
To everyone, the major said, and he 

Speaks always with such grave authority. 
He asks for passes. "It is true, I know," 

The major said, "the General's own car 
Your brother stopped. He wouldn't let him 
go — 

The General, a certain way." Not far 
Then is the road to fame. My brother played 

Not many years ago with me. I can 
Scarcely believe my brother, then, has made 

Himself an M. P., — such a mighty man! 



118 



PRESS ON 

THE BRITISH AND BROTHER 

My brother went up to "Wipers" 

And fought with the British men. 
The Germans held on like vipers 

But the British were there, and, then, 
The British had my brother 

So "Wipers" never fell. 
There never has been another 

City so shot to hell. 
My brother fell with a comrade 

At "Wipers" one fearful day. 
"He was joking," they wrote, "with a real 
glad 

Smile as he passed away." 
So I often think of "Wipers" 

And all of those British men 
And the Germans who held like vipers 

To the British and brother. Again, 
I smile as my brother smiled falling 

That "Wipers" has stood the test. 
The British and brother are calling 

A world to respond with its best. 

United States of America, 
May 17, 1919. 



114 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

LIVING GEOGRAPHY 

I didn't think when the Red Arrows came 

Much of the hardships every one had seen. 
I didn't think of war but just the same, 

I thought a lot of where each one had been. 
Each face was quite a study of the world, 

A new Geography, and I could see, 
When our Red Arrows came, there was un- 
furled 

A world Geography for you and me. 

I knew when the Red Arrows came that we 
Would know each inch of France from 
Brest to Toul. 
I knew the Argonne Forest we would see 
And Juvigny and Soissons, yes, our 
school 
Geography is living. Now I can 

Be interested at last, — it is a look, 
A smile, a shadow in each face. Each man 

Of our Red Arrows is a living book. 
I knew when our Red Arrows came, that I 
Had a new life from here unto the Rhine. 
I knew that I should know wherefor and why 
The world has been redeemed. I knew 
each fine, 
Bronzed face would tell me ever on the 
street 
As I passed by, each fact that I should 
know. 
I knev/ when our Red Arrows came, the feet 
Of Atlas were so sure that I could go 



116 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

Safely about each daily task and rest 
Within a world that truly was secure. 

I knew when our Red Arrows came, this best 
And last Geography would then endure. 

United States of America, 
May 19, 1919. 



MY BROTHER SENT A STRING OF 
BEADS TO ME 

My brother sent a string of beads to me 
From France. I'm really proud as I can be 
But how he bought them's more than I can 

see 
On fifty francs or so each month for pay. 
I hope he gets enough to eat each day ! 

I wanted beads before he went to war. 
And told him so. He laughed and said: 

"From far 
Away, I'll send you some, dear little Sis." 
I never thought I'd have a string like this ! 

My brother sent a string of beads to me 
From France. I'm really proud as I can be 
But how he bought them's more than I can 

say 
On fifty francs or so each month for pay. 
I hope he has enough to eat each day ! 

United States of America, 
May 18, 1919. 



116 



PRESS ON 

GIVE ME A HOME 

Give me a home which I may share with all. 
Father, I ask no more, — a home with wall 
So high and broad that no one is denied 
Within its door. Give me a home as wide 
As heaven. 



MOVE ON 

Hast thou a friend who merely says a word 
Or two of flattery? Quick! Move thou on 
Until he speaks plain facts, — then hast thou 

won 
A friend. 



SUPPLY 

Supply came unexpectedly one day when I 
Began to sing and praise God. I know why 
It pays to say: 'Thank God," and ever sing 
And watch and pray. Sin, death and suffer- 
ing 
All flee away as one thanks God aright. 
The darkness vanishes. Let there be light 
Of gratitude. 



117 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

MY BROTHER WENT OUT TO THE 
SOLDIERS' HOME 

My brother went out to the soldiers' home 

one day 
And talked to Grandpa, and I went with him, 
And listened to them talk, and, say, the way 
They talked! My Grandpa's beady eyes 

grew dim 
At many things my brother had to tell 
About Chateau-Thierry, and I knew 
He felt it deeply. Many times, oh, well, 
He said some words that aren't really true 
Or right to say except when soldiers tell 
Of war. 

My brother went out to the soldiers' home 

and said 
He'd like to see his grandpa, so right there 
We found him by the tulip bed. He fed 
The squirrels, too, my grandpa did and where 
The shadows fell across us there was bright 
Light too a-shining ever through the trees. 
My grandpa swore with Brother as they do 
In war. He made me sit upon his knees. 
He said I was a great, big, lovely girl 
And how he tried to make my straight hair 

curl! 
Brother and Grandpa talked, and I'll tell you, 
I saw that soldiers really, really bind 
The world. Grandpa, feeding squirrels, and a 

smile 
Of peace upon his face. He tried to find 
Each by-path there in France and walk each 

mile 

118 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

With Brother through the Argonne Forest, 

too. 
He swore a lot but Grandpa's kind and true, 
Just Hke all soldiers are who fight for us. 
My mother says they swear and kick and 

curse, 
These soldiers do at many things. A fuss 
They often raise and yet they are not worse 
Than other men. My grandpa's very good 
And so is Brother, not at all refined 
Since they have fought, but when they're 

understood, 
I guess all soldier's hearts are very kind. 

United States of America, 
May 19, 1919. 



119 



PRESS ON 

THE MILLIONAIRE'S SON 

His letters do make me lonely 

That he writes from over the sea. 
He hasn't asked for a dollar, 

Not from his mother or me. 
I wonder how he gets along 

On fifty francs for pay. 
I'm ready to send him anything, 

Yes, all, if he'd only say 
He's needing a little money 

And give me the right address. 
I'm ready to send him money. 

I really can't do less 
Than to send him all he's needing 

When he is so far away. 
I wonder how he is coming 

With fifty francs for pay. 

Someone wrote his mother, 

A lad our son, too, knows. 
That no one is a millionaire 

In the Army. Pride and clothes 
Don't count at all where my son is, 

And, maybe, that is why 
The fifty francs each pay day 

Is all he needs, but I 
Feel lonely to read his letters 

When he doesn't ask for more. 
It used to be quite otherwise 

Before he went to war. 

United States of America, 
May 18, 1919. 



120 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

THE BATTLES OF PARIS 

"There is no white bread in Paris, nor but- 
ter," my brother writes, 

"It's quiet and cold in Paris — streets, pitch 
dark, no flaming hghts 

At night on the streets of Paris." My 
brother has written me, 

He's fighting the battles of Paris, brave as a 
brother could be! 

My brother works for a major. Brother's 

eighteen this fall. 
He fibbed to get in the Army but he hasn't 

been at all 
To the Front. He's had some battles in Paris, 

I'll tell you! 
With no white bread or butter and cold that 

would cut in two! 

There were some pears in Paris, my brother 

saw one day 
In a window. Thought he'd buy some but 

didn't! No, I'll say 
He didn't since they were only two dollars 

forty a pear. 
He's fighting the battles of Paris, my brother 

is, over there. 

He says that the streets of Paris are most 

everywhere aflame 
With flower-carts and women. He writes 

that it is a shame 



121 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

He can't send flowers to Mother, since, over 

there, they're cheap! 
Violets and roses! But he knows that they 

wouldn't keep. 

My brother saw pears in Paris but had to 

leave them alone, — 
Two dollars-forty a pear were they. Wouldn't 

it make you groan ! 
There is no white bread in Paris, nor butter, 

nor sugar, he 
Fights the battles of Paris, brave as a brother 

could be! 

United States of America, 
May 19, 1919. 



122 



PRESS ON 

THE TABERNACLE OF GOD 

The Revelator wrote that God hath raised 
To heaven his own, wondrous temple, 
grand ; 
And everywhere with men, God's word is 
praised. 
The temple built for men is in the land 
Our father Abraham hath sought and found. 
Where'er men stand, that place is holy 
ground. 



BLESSINGS 

Oft'times I find a blessing in the thing 
I tried hard to refuse. 
Though evils bring a serpent, suffering 
Need never come; once, lifted up, a rod. 
It always is to lead one on to God. 



123 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

I HAD A SISTER IN THE WAR 

I had a sister in the war and she 

Went up in Russia very long ago 
And opened up a hostess house. I see, 

I haven't spoken as I should ! I know 
You fellows aren't proud of sisters, you 

Who had so many brothers over there. 
I had a sister in the war. It's true 

That no one ever gives to girls their share 
Of glory. 

I had a sister in the war. She was 
Stationed in France and then in Petrograd. 
I know that she was working for a cause — 
To make our fighting men more brave and 
glad ! 

She kept her hostess house so neat and clean, 
Curtained with bandage cloth ! And every 
night 
Those frozen boys would come, and she has 
seen 
Them weep because the fire was burning 
bright. 
I had a sister in the war. 

I had a sister in the war, a great, 
Big, jolly girl, and now that she is back. 
She doesn't talk so much. She had to wait 
A year for letters, watched the frozen 
track 
Of that White Sea on Russia's coast, and so, 
I know she did her part and fought and 
won. 



124 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

I had a sister who was glad to go 

And give up all her parties and her fun 
At home, and so I know that I am blest 

Just like you boys whose brothers went. No 
more 
Than two of us at home ! It was the best 

That I could do, — a sister in the war! 

United States of America, May 19, 1919. 



HAVE YOU ANYTHING TO TELL ME? 

Have you anything to tell me 

About over there in France? — 
I asked Bill Jones, my neighbor. 

Since I do not get a chance 
To hear of the fight that was raging. 

I hadn't a brother there. 
Fm the only one in the fam'ly. 

Too young! And it isn't fair! 
So we sit oftimes in the evenings, 

Bill Jones, his mother and I 
And we talk of France by the grate fire 

Till I, leading armies, try 
To keep the Germans from crossing 

The Marne and the Belleau Wood. 
I'm glad that I have a neighbor 

Who is friendly, kind and good! 

United States of America, 
May 18, 1919. 

125 



PRESS ON 

YPRES 

Ypres, 

I have not seen so beautiful a face 
As thine. 

No city on the earth is quite like thee, 
A remnant of marred stone — no other trace 
Of beauty save a mass of graves. To free 
A world thy remnant stands safe and secure. 

Ypres, 
A nation's love hath kept thee clean and 
pure. 

Ypres, 

Never once taken, never yielding to 
War's shock of greed and lust ! Is there, in- 
deed, 
A finer tribute? Is there more to do 
Than thou hast done to guard earth's sacred 

creed 
Of right? 

Ypres, 
Thy face became to me 
The face of a kind mother as I stood 
And looked upon thy broken walls. Each 

stone 
Upturned, spoke clearly : "God is very good 
Forever!" I, a woman, quite alone, 
Without a human guide or friend could see 
Gleaming from shattered window panes the 

light 



126 



PRESS ON 

Of justice, — Truth's great right to truly free 
Earth's women and earth's children from the 

might 
Of evil's sway. 

Ypres, 

No face like thine 
Hath ever seemed more marred and yet di- 
vine. 
Thou gavest all thy beauty, all thy grace 
To make on earth a fairer, purer place 
For men. 

Ypres. 

Mother of war's cities, waste and lone, 
To woman's honor, every broken stone 
Hath reared an altar. 

Ypres, thou art to me 
The symbol of true woman's purity. 
In jdelding not to lust, thou hast set free 
All men from lust and war and want and 

hate. 
Ypres, wondrous in beauty and yet desolate. 

Ypres, 

Out of thy ruined walls there shall 
arise 
Respect for woman, earth's true paradise. 
The seven times thou hast withstood lust's 

greed 
Have proved that selfless love is still earth's 
creed. 

On Train from Dunkerque to Paris, 
January 6, 1919. 

127 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

MY FATHER PAID THE AWFUL, AWFUL 

PRICE! 

My father paid the awful, awful price 
Of never going to the war at all. 
My brother went and so my mother said 
My father must stay home. I know the call 
Came to him every hour, — the call to go 
And so I pitied him for don't I know 
Just how he felt? My father paid each day 
The price of never going. I can say 
He paid enough ! 

My father often used to sit and hold 
His head when he would read the news at 

night. 
His thought whizzed 'round in action and he 

told 
Us that he knew each man should surely 

fight! 
I used to treat my father better, too. 
Whenever Brother's newsy letters came. 
My father longed to go and so I knew 
He felt it was a downright, awful shame 
For men to stay at home, safe over here 
While all our boys are fighting over there. 
My father paid the price of staying home. 
He wanted so to go ! It wasn't fair ! 



128 



PRESS ON 
NO RESPONSE 

(A tribute to France's unoffended War Premier) 

It did not find response in him, and so 
The bullet could not strike. He did not know 
That he was aught except a child who had 
To keep his joy at any cost. His glad 
Smile brightly answered a world's cry: 
"I feel no injury." He questioned, 'Why 
Should I not do my joyous work?" He knew 
The world's peace in the balance must weigh 
true. 

And thus it was the bullet sought in vain 
A lodging place. The wondrous, healing gain 
Of a whole world is to behold this hour 
That malice with its blow of human pow'r 
Found no response in him. He is, indeed, 
A childlike man who meets the world's great 

need. 
If you become a child, then shall you come 
Into this heav'n of peace, man's changeless 

home. 

The mansions of Love's house shall be pre- 
pared. 

All this the Master taught. Truth's home 
is shared 

In greater measure in this hour of peace 

Because a leaden bullet could not cease 

The patient work of one whose love could 
find 

Naught in an injury that was unkind. 

A world's peace still unfolds, — true, childUke 
good, 

Enduring peace for all earth's brotherhood. 

129 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

MY BROTHER WROTE HE WAS IN PARIS 

My brother wrote he was in Paris when 
That great, big statute down in Concord Place 
Was decorated — Lille — they call her. Then 
I thought rd like to see that woman's face. 
Her name is splendid, Lille, a city's name. 
In France, they treat large cities just the 

same. 
They make them women, wonderfully sweet, 
And decorate them down there in that street 
In Paris. 

My brother saw it all 
For he enlisted long ago. The call 
"To Arms" got him at once, the very day 
We entered war and I can truly say 
I'm not real jealous of him 'cept when he 
Writes back of mud and trenches. I can see 
It all and want to go. And when he goes 
To Paris on a furlough, no one knows 
How much I suffer to be with him there 
Down on the Champs-Elysees, everywhere 
He goes ! 

My brother was in Paris when 
They decorated Lille. Oh, my, oh, when 
Can we have another war? My Ma says: 

"NO! 
We're through with wars forever! There, 

don't cry. 
We'll go and see the Fronts, my son. Yes, I 
And Pa and you will go to Concord Place 
And look into each woman statue's face." 

United States of America, 

May 17, 1919. 

130 



PRESS ON 
LA LIBRE BELGIQUE 

(A tribute to La Libre Belgique, the uninterrupted War Journal 

of Belgium) 

A voice was raised in Belgium through those 
years 
Of grief and torture, yea, a voice that 
spoke 
Kind as a mother's, stilling haunting fears. 

A voice spoke with authority and broke 
Earth's fearful dream. Never again shall 
earth 
Be fettered as it was in those dark days 
When Belgium found a way to speak and 
praise 
Her faithful Allies. Yea, a voice was raised 
In Belgium — for this let Truth be praised. 
La Libre Belgique hath raised her voice 
In those hushed days in Belgium, and said 

A war-torn country could that hour rejoice 
And with her songs raise soldiers from the 
dead. 
Such was the message that an attic wall 
Could not restrain — it liberated all 
And brought Love's creed of hope and peace 

and rest 
To Belgium, and helped her stand the test. 



181 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

MY SON SENT ME A PRESENT 

My son sent me a present 

From the Rue Castiglione, 
And, somehow, when I got it, 

I felt that he hadn't gone 
To fight at all in Flanders. 

My soldier boy sent on 
A letter and some forget-me-nots 

From the Rue Castiglione. 
There were three such tiny flowers, 

Tucked away in a fold 
Of the letter my son sent to me 

With the sweetest story told. 
I read his letter the hours 

His father's away each week, 
From Monday till Friday I read it. 

With never a one to speak 
To me as the days are fleeting 

Toward the day he's coming home. 
My son sent me a greeting 

From Paris, — ^the Place Vendome. 
My son sent me a present 

From a shop that's over there — 
Three little, tiny blossoms, 

Fragrant and blue and fair. 

They make me think of the flowers 

I fashioned so long ago 
On his baby dress before he came 

To live with us. Now I know 
Why the weeks are passing quickly 

While Father's away. I guess 



132 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

I am making again in my dreaming 
That same, sweet baby dress. 

My son sent me a present 
From the Rue CastigUone 

And, somehow, when I got it, 
I felt that he hadn't gone. 

United States of America, 
May 18, 1919. 



MY BROTHER BROUGHT A WIFE BACK 

My brother brought a wife back and I try 

To talk with her. She smiles and, then, I 
say: 
"II fait tres manifique, aujourd'hui." I 

Can't say another word. The gentle way 
She answers makes me think I'd like to be 

A linquist and speak every language well. 
My brother's wife is very kind to me 

And I say, "Merci" but I'd like to tell 
Her more of what I feel. Her loving look 

Is helpful to me so I have to go 
And study dictionaries and my book 

Of grammar so I'm sure that you can know 
How hard it is to tell her but I find 
That we can really talk through being kind ! 

United States of America, 
May 18, 1919. 



188 



PRESS ON 

THE WOUND STRIPE 

When Brother came from war, my father 

said 
That he had quarreled with Neighbor Brown, 

and he 
Warned Brother not to speak. My father led 
Him in the house and said : "I know you'll be 
Friendly to everyone but that old Brown. 
Speak graciously to everyone in town 
Except that quarrelsome neighbor. I declare! 
He drove me mad while you were over there." 

And so I was surprised that very day, 
To see my brother sitting on a step 
Of Neighbor Brown's. I wondered if the way 
Of soldiers is to fight and then forget 
All troubles, and I saw our neighbor, too, 
Caress the wound stripe that my brother had. 
I saw my father look at them. I knew 
That he, too, had forgiven. He was glad 
My brother disobeyed. 



184 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

I LIKE MY BROTHER'S NEW WIFE 

I like my brother's new wife 

But she doesn't speak a word 
Of Enghsh. Yes, you bet your Hfe 

I Kke her! I have heard 
A lot of people saying 

Words who can't talk like her. 
There's something as sweet as praying 

In the very walk of her. 

I like the wife of my brother. 

He met her over in France. 
I don't think there's another 

In our town whose had the chance 
To become so cultivated, 

So gentle-like and kind. 
I'm glad my brother waited 

And then made up his mind 
There's something more than talking 

That counts in this old life. 
There's a sermon in the walking 

Of my brother's new French wife. 

United States of America, 
May 18, 1919. 



135 



PRESS ON 

THE RED CHEVRON 

I'm not so proud of it and still I'll say 
I'm glad to have it, glad it's mine today. 
I never knew how much this thing would 

cost, 
This little strip of red cloth. I most lost 
My life one day at Soissons. Anyhow, 
I got well fast and I am back home now 
Wearing a red chevron. 

I often wonder if the days between 

The time I left and now will ever seem 

A dream. I wonder if those months in 

France 
Will vanish. Anyhow, I got the chance 
To go! I'm pleased as I can be 
With this red chevron — it was earned by 

me, — 
This new red chevron! 



A REST 

It is a rest to ever let God plan 
Each day and hour. Today we truly can 
Go to and fro always the guest of One 
^Vho knoweth all. Rest! Let His will be 
done. 



136 



TRAVEL ORDERS 



PROMOTED 



I'm doing a little each night now 

Extra while Jim's away. 
I don't seem to have the right now 

To loaf much any day. 
There are cows to feed and chickens, 

Pigs in the pen back there. 
Jim must have worked like the dickens. 

There's really no lack here 
Of choring to do each day now — 

Jim did the chores before — 
I'm glad that he is away now, 

And has earned him a rest in the war ! 
I'm doing choring each morning 

Extra while Jim's away. 
I cannot do any scorning 

For all that he did each day 
Jim's only eighteen, I'm sajdng — 

A full-sized man at work — 
All that I'm asking is praying 

That I will never shirk 
The tasks that he did so gladly, 

A-whist'ling every night. 
And morning. I sadly. 

Admit I have no right 
To sit down by the fire. 

And smoke my pipe. I ask no more ! 
So glad Jim's gone higher, 

And has earned him a rest in the war. 

United States of America, 
May 26, 1919. 



137 



PRESS ON 

WOULD SHARING BE FAIR? 

We have almost too much sunshine, 

Too much good butter and bread. 
In France they have too much red wine, 

And here we are too much fed. 
We have too much heat in winter 

In our houses. We've too much snow ! 
America never would stint her 

Even on weather, you know. 
I'm wondering if we can't share things. 

Save wine — we'll have none of that. 
Yes, share with them right where things 

Are scarce, — can you answer that ? 



THANK GOD FOR DEBTS 

A debtor to the Greeks and to the Jews, 
Paul hath declared himself eternally, — 
Yea, to Barbarians and bond and free 
To wise and unwise. Thus Paul taught to 

choose 
The debt of giving love to men is way 
Of peace. Debt is Truth's wondrous way 
Of giving, handing love to everyone. 
Thank God for debts until Love's will is done. 



188 



TRAVEL ORDERS 
ONE RHINE FORT DESTROYED 

(With the Army of Occupation) 

I saw one fort destroyed upon the Rhine, 

Our boys sang songs of cheer. 
There was no trace of war or mine or thine. 

No thought of hate or fear, 
And from the fort the strongest of the world, 
I saw our flag unfurled. 
I saw one fort destroyed upon the Rhine. 

I saw one fort destroyed upon the Rhine, 

Our boys were watching there. 
There was no trace of war or mine or thine. 

Our boys were everywhere, 
And from the fort the strongest of the world, 
I saw our flag unfurled. 

The fort of Gibralter on the Rhine 

Surrenders human pow'r. 
There was no trace of war or mine or thine. 

Our boys are there this hour, 
And from this fort, the strongest of the 

world, 
Our flag is now unfurled. 

Fort Ehrenbreitstein, Germany, 
March 16, 1919. 



139 



PRESS ON 

OUR GREAT TEACHER'S HUMANITY 

Someone told me Christ prepared a feast 

After the resurrection, — yea, a meal, 
For his dear followers. The least 

I, then, can do is first to bless and heal 
And after make a supper with mine hands 
And thus fulfill all of our Lord's commands. 

Yea, someone told me what I should have 
known 
Long years ago as written plainly there 

Within the Scriptures. Now, I truly know 
Since someone told me. Love is everywhere 

Revealed in human kindness. Let me lend 
And give all good forever for this word 

I learned from one who talks of God, — a 
friend. 
Father, I thank Thee truly that I heard. 



LOSING NOTHING 
It is a joy to give all. None can lose 
One thing in giving. Giving is to choose 
To have. 



140 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

HOT RATIONS 

I saw a doughboy weep for joy one day 

Down at Mont Sec because his food was 
hot- 
Hot rations, yes, 'twas ever in a way 

Simple as this, the soldiers knew their lot 
Had been twice-blest. Hot rations after days 

Of firing in the trenches — this was all. 
I saw a doughboy weep for joy. War's ways 

Of gratitude are devious. The call 
Of mess with steaming food had made him 
weep 

For joy; and then I knew the world should 
keep 
The memory of the grateful tears he 

shed — 
Hot rations. War hath raised the thought- 
less dead 
In France. I saw these tears of joy and 

knew 
That gratitude is fadeless, deathless, true. 
The mud of trenches could not dim his joy 
And peace. I saw him smile through tears, 
this plain doughboy. 
Over hot rations. 



141 



PRESS ON 

THERE IS A WOMAN LIVING ON OUR 
STREET 

There is a woman living on our street 

Whose son did not come back at all, and I 
Speak sweetly always to her when I meet 

Her every day. I smile and bow and try 
To look real cheerful since I know that she 

Remembers how he smiled at her, and so 
I always look real happy when I see 

Her. It's a notion but I know 
It helps her. 

One day I met a neighbor I detest 

So much! I thought that surely I would 
frown 
And pass her without speaking. As a jest 

To my own self, I said : "Look up, not down, 
And smile and speak just like you always do 

To that dear woman whose son never came 
Back from the war at all." This thing is 
true, 
I smiled and bowed and spoke and felt no 
shame. 
It helped me. 



142 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

THE CHANGE IN FATHER 

I've noticed Father's very kind these days, 
Since I've been gone, there's really quite a 
change. 
He seems to have improved in all his ways. 
I could not make it out. It's very strange 
To see him sweetly smile and hope you're 
well. 
And say, so gracious-like : "It's fine today — 
If you have errands in the town, and tell 

Me what you want, I'll gladly do them. Say 
The word," my Father says, *l'm surely glad 
To help you." All of this he'll gently 
speak 
To everyone. He dresses up and goes 

Alone to town now nearly every week, 
And buys him ties and handkerchiefs and 
clothes. 

I often wondered why he's changed so, and 

I asked my mother if she thought the war 
Had made him sweeter. Mother took my 
hand 

And laughed, and squeezed my hand, and 
laughed some more. 
"My son," she said, "you are not worldly wise 

If you did fight a winning war in France. 
We now have Farmerettes, and Father's eyes 

Are all for them. I let him have his chance 
Because at heart your father isn't bad. 

He just has been real lonely all these years 



143 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

Because no daughters came to us. He had 
A longing so for girls, their smiles and 
tears. 
These Farmerettes, out with him in the field 
Have made him tender, kind and sweet and 
true 
To everyone, and though the crops don't yield 

A grain of profit, I am telling you, 
I'm glad you went to France if war must 
come, 
Glad for these girl-hands and your 
father's joy, 
I'm very glad, my son, that you are home. 
He wanted girls — I longed so for a boy!" 

United States of America, 
May 25, 1919. 



THE SHEETS WERE GREAT! 

The sheets I slept in last night sure seemed 

good! 
The bath I took was great! That chair is 

fine! 
The chicken, too, was tender, and the food, 
The other food, would make your dull eyes 

shine. 
The sheets were great! I'm glad I'm home 

once more 
Glad that there was an end to that long war! 
The sheets were great ! 



144 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

MAC WAS MY PARTNER 

Mac was my partner. My mother's word 
After I sailed from New York, and heard 
How I surprised her, leavin' to fight, 
Set me a-goin' it straight and right. 
She wrote me some corkin' poetry 
In her letter, hopin' I would be 
Where duty called. And I always thought 
The good of that poetry had brought 
My partner, Mac, for to stick to me 
All through this battle for liberty. 
We used to think of the foolest rot, 
Mac and me, and you will likely not 
Believe me if I should say to you, 
Mac seemed like another mother, too. 

Mac was my partner. Down at ground 
school, 
We trained together, and every fool 
Stunt we pulled off, or thing we would do 
Together — Mac was some partner, too ! 
Tore anyone of us struck the line, 
We got a job that was peachy, fine, 
Deliverin' planes. Each day we'd fly 
From London to Paris, Mac and I. 
We would often play for practice, whiz ! 
That's just how Mac was a-gettin' his. 

Months after, in tellin' this, you know, 
rd rather not say how he bumped at me, 
While I was soarin' and couldn't see. 



145 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

He whisked ahead and shot back — oh, well, 

Others was seein' just how he fell, 

When he turned, and rose and swooped his 

plane — 
Mac never was playin' with me again. 
'Course it was him who had been to blame. 
I'd ruther been bumped off jest the same. 

Mac was my partner. I got to fight. 
Everyone's sayin' I licked 'em right. 
In the Argonne Forest, I'd swoop low, 
Over the Fritzies and — let 'er go. 
And they would open right up, you bet. 
With machine gun bullets, don't forget. 
Only one time did they rattle me. 
Mac was my partner in school. Sez he. 
Long ago, ''Keep goin' straight on ahead 
Over their lines, whether live or dead." 

I hold the record for time spent past 
The German lines, and if I would dast 
To tell, there's many a record, too, 
That would be inane to tell to you. 
For instance, I broke my rudder off. 
It would surely make a feller laugh. 
The way I whizzed in a circle there. 
Above the Germans. There was a scare 
In their lines. They sure believed a bird 
They'd never knowed nothin' of or heard 
About had appeared. They turned to flee 
From a rudderless a'roplane. Oh, gee! 
I laughed when I nosed down safely too, 
Across our lines, I'm a-tellin' you. 

146 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

Then once agin, at Viller-Courtrey — 
Was bluer than smoke of hell that day. 
Mac was my partner. With eyes all dim, 
Decided then to be joinin' him. 
I flew like the devil, struck and beat 
Every Fritzie Boy I chanced to meet, 
Not fer revenge. I wanted to try 
To make a record for Mac and I, 
Before I went to report. I guess 
I was thinkin' of livin', bein' less 
In a stew than we are here below 
With hate and sufferin*, war and woe, 

I had just reached Soissons in the fight. 
I thought ''Gee, Mac will be pleased to-night 
When I report," fer I sent in flames 
Planes and their flyers with famous names. 
Right then, Mac's voice shouted clear to me. 
Machine gun bullets was flyin' free 
And fast, and they ripped and tore each wing. 
The engine stopped ! I could hear each thing. 
Mac's voice above all. It's true, I say, 
Mac's voice was speakin' to me that day. 

I was likely as near to the Pearly Gate 
As I'll ever get, and it was late 
Fer any man to be checking in 
Who was loaded with hate and grief and sin. 
The only reason Mac spoke to me 
Was because I had reached his home, you see. 
We were always on speaking terms, you bet. 
Mac was some partner, don't forget. 

147 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

They tell me I passed over Jordan's shore 
That night and don't belong here no more 
Than two tails belong to a maltese cat. 
I was killed, that's all. It's the end of that. 

*'You hold stidy there," sez Mac to me. 
When we met in heav'n. "Can't yer numb- 
skull see 
I'm keepin' that engine goin'. Be 
A sport and live. You have much to do 
In another war when this is through. 
I gave my life that a world might live — 
There's only one human life to give. 
It's braver to live right on and fight. 
The work you're doin', Boy, is right. 
You've made high aces of me and you, 
While I am a-doin' something, too." 

I landed safely agin behind 
Our lines. Mac's voice, speakin' clear and 

kind. 
Had sent me to earth once more. Sez I : 
"If Mac's a-goin' it, I will try 
Not to be a slacker. But the fight. 
The next one, Mac said as bein' right 
To be in, I knew then what it was. 
I surely knew then!" Sez I: ''Because 
Mac said so, it is a cinch it's straight. 
His bulletins come from heaven's gate." 
Jest why I returned to earth is more 
Than I can say exceptin' the war 
Mac sent me to fight is wine and beer 
And home-brew and gin, flowin' freely here. 



148 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

Twas after the Armistice, one night 
I went to Paris. Fair and right 
We cel'brated. At the club, we drank 
And danced and smoked, and sez I: "No 

thank 
You, nothin', nothin' but beer I'll take." 
They laughed and joshed: "Is this guy 

awake V* 
But I was awake, I didn't care 
For gin or cognac. Oh, yes, I dare 
Drink everything. I kin take it all 
And walk home straight. Still the high air- 
call 
Of Mac's voice was ringin'. I could see 
Fightin' wa'n't over f er you and me. 
I saw Mac, too, was makin' an ace 
Of me right here in this earthly place. 

I insisted : "No, thanks, I'll take beer — " 
Somewhat of a vict'ry over here! 
I somehow felt that Mac's rudder, too, 
Of wantin' to drink had broke clean through 
In the place he's fightin' in. By gee ! 
I'm glad he's makin' an ace of me. 
And aces don't come, I'd have you know, 
In Mac's war easy. The count is slow 
That is, the official one. You see, 
I'm wantin' beer, and you cannot be 
A-wantin' a thing. Gosh ! Gess I dast 
To stick till the war Mac fights is past ! 
I'm glad as an air-man orter be 
That Mac's my partner for liberty. 

(Paris, December 25, 1918) 

149 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

LATER IN AMERICA. 

Yes, all through this fight with old home- 
brew 
I'm grateful f er that one interview, 
I had in heav'n in Mac's new place 
Where he's still a-workin' to be an ace. 
No thanks ! Not any ! I'm glad I'm through 
With the things Mac is fightin' agin' f er me. 
Mac was my partner. No, thanks. You see 
It ain't fair to him or to anyone 
If I drink till the war Mac fights is done. 
No, thanks ! Not a single drop. I'm through ! 
With gin and whisky and old home-brew. 
Mac is my partner. 



REST 

To love to stay right where you are is best 
Since this is heaven on earth and joy and 
rest. 



150 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

I WANT YOU TO KNOW MY SON 

I want to know my son ! 

He just got back home last week. 

He was at nearly every one 

Of the Fronts. He'll seldom speak 

Of a thing. Sometimes, he lets fall 

A word or two, that's all 

I want you to know my son! 

I'm telling you all this — I don't know why — 

My son's a full-sized man now. And I 

Wish you could feel his muscle. Nails 

Aren't harder. Been gone five years 

With the Canadian Army. Jails 

Couldn't have kept him there ! Has no fears 

Over one thing in the world. He sure is 

A dare-devil, good-hearted, free, — 

If he is my son, I'll say this. 

He's really a credit to me! 

He was a sapper, you know, over there, 

Crawled on the ground like a snake, 

And cut the wire entanglements where 

The Germans set traps. Didn't make 

Any difference to him — this was his work ! 

You'll really have to meet him and see 

The sort that he is. He never would shirk 

A thing ! Of all the surprises I've had 

The thing that really now goes 

Straight to my heart and makes me most 

glad 
Was this, when my son changed his clothes, 
To civilian ones the night that he came. 
He threw on my dresser a roll of bills. 



151 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

T'was Five Hundred Dollars! — and just the 

same — 
It wasn't the money ! My heart fills 
With pride as I tell it ! Best hearted lad 
In the world ! Free to give but you can see 
He wasn't carousing. He was saving and had 
Five Hundred left over ! He's just as free 
As the air with his gifts and so I knew 
He had stuck to that war business and won. 
He's straight as a die, my son is, and true ! 
I'll set him up now in business. I'm done 
With fearing for him. He's proved out with 

me! 
Five Hundred my son had and he as free 
As the air ! It's not the money I care 
For at all ! I want you to know my son. 

I want you to know my son ! 

He was in action three years, long before 

America did one thing in the war. 

You see, he has cousins in Canada, so 

Wild horses couldn't have dragged him away 

From going — bound and determined to go. 

I had to give him his way, 

It sure was a lucky day 

For me. You see, my son learned to save 

And live right in the war. It's strange and 

true 
I never knew my son until he gave 
All when nothing was asked. Why, I tell you 
You can see what he's like. No one can find 
Anyone more free-hearted, very few 



152 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

As much so. How he ever could lay 
Up Five Hundred gets me! Free as the day 
And the air we breathe. I want you to know 
My son. He was a sapper in the war. 
Tm glad as my son that he got to go 
With the Canadians, long before 
America got in. No use to say more — 
I want you to know my son. 

May 26, 1919. 



I WASN'T AT CHATEAU-THIERRY 
I wasn't at Chateau-Thierry, 

Neither in Belleau Wood, 
I didn't fight at Soissons, 

Nor the Argonne, and I could 
Tell you the places I have not been. 

And the places I do not know. 
I wasn't in St. Mihiel sector. 

Since Dad wouldn't let me go. 

I didn't go to Ypres 

And fight with the British there. 
I never went to Arras, 

And it surely wasn't fair. 
I never was at Verdun 

With the French in Fort de Vaux, 
I'm just thirteen next winter. 

And Dad wouldn't let me go. 

United States of America, 
May 18, 1919. 



153 



PRESS ON 

I HAVE A FRIEND 

I have a friend, — my work, my day, my song, 

My fellow-men ; yea, as I pass along 

Life's way, all these seem one, — forever one. 

I have a friend ! 

God's will on earth is done. I have a friend ! 



THE WORLD'S REQUEST FOR PEACE 

I do not ask for peace until I know 

My nature is transformed. I do not ask 

For riches till I know that I can go 

With quietude each day to every task 

To rest and work. Yea, when I see 

My daily living has been earned by God,— 

I ask for peace throughout eternity, — 

The peace of law. 

Truth's c^overnment or rod. 



154 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

MY SON CAME HOME LAST WEEK 

My son came home last week. He's different, 
too. 
I can't quite tell you how. He seems to sit 
And think and think and when he speaks to 
you, 
He has a look within his deep blue eyes, 
As if he could see far away. I am 

Or should be glad. It's really a surprise 
To see him so grown up ! He is a man. 

My son came home last week. We ploughed 
the field 
Down by the wood lot and we pruned some 
trees 
We worked together but I tried to shield 
Him as I used to do. He said : "Please, 
Dad, I can do this. I ploughed in France 
All day. Just rest! Give me a chance." 

My son came home last week. We cut and 
slashed 
The apple trees and when I said to him : 
"We'll make a bonfire of this," I declare, 
I felt my very eyes a-growing dim 
When he replied : "No, Dad, we do not dare 
To waste a thing. There's need in Europe ; 
— we 
Must use these limbs. Oh, my, the suffering 
I've seen from cold in France! It cannot 
be 



166 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

That we should waste a thing," my son re- 
plied. 

He is so changed. Fm sure if I had been 
His Mother, I would just as surely cried 

For all the refugees my son has seen 
In France. 

United States of America, May 18, 1919. 



DAD'S ALL THROUGH WITH FRANCE 

Dad took me to the hotel for dinner. 

I said: "Gee, this food 
Is better than any in Paris — 

This chicken, sure, is good." 
Dad said : "Now, how much would you pay 

For a dinner like this in France?" 
I cleared my throat and said : "I'll say 

It would cost four bucks. The chance 
Of getting it would be slight." 

Dad cleared his throat and said : "My son 
The price, one dollar, is right. 

I'm through with France. I hope you're 
done 
Galavantin' there to war. 

If you'd pay four dollars for just one 
Dinner, you'll not go there any more!" 



156 



PRESS ON 

CHICKORY— THAT IS TROUBLE 

I met a man out on the street 

Who stopped and told his troubles. I 

Kept, too, from laughing. It was neat 

That sober stunt I pulled off. Why, 

I fairly longed to laugh and say, 

You don't know troubles. You can't tell 

Me, man, that you drink every day 

For breakfast, ah, I shudder, well, 

If I must say the word I will ! 

Chickory ! If you drink Chickory 

For breakfast, then you know the way 

Of trouble, and I'll listen. That's the test, 

The one last weight to justly weigh 

All woes is always jest 

To one who has drunk Chickory 

In France. Oh, did you say, Chickory? 

Well, that is trouble! 



EACH DAY PRESS ON 

Each day is glorious ! 'Tis as a page 
An angel writes of truest love to me, 
Each day is glorious ! God made men free ! 



1B7 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

I HAD A PIECE OF WHITE BREAD 

I had a piece of white bread, 

Over in France one day. 
I felt hke a king and I ate it 

Proudly, I'll tell you. Say, 
You will never know till you're there, too, 

With the British Army, the way 
I ate that white bread right where, too, 

There were Tommies with war bread !- 
Nay, nay. 
Don't ask me to tell you the reason 

I kept it myself. Can't you see 
To give it away — oh, such treason! 

America gave it to me, — 
An American soldier, I said. 
Gave me one piece of white bread. 
I had a piece of white bread. 

Over in France one day. 



158 



PRESS ON 

GUIDANCE 

If I but write, I pray : Guide Thou my hand, 
Thou great Jehovah. In this barren land 
Of self where'er I walk, I ask God, too, 
To guide me safely all my journey through. 



I LIVED TWO DAYS IN PARIS ON 
TV/ENTY-EIGHT FRANCS 

I lived two days in Paris on twenty-eight 

francs. 
And, then, I moved right on. 
Two days in Paris on twenty-eight francs 
For eats. There is no light on. 
Not a calcium light, on the bed I slept 
In that night. It was just a chair 
In a hotel lobby but I kept 
Half of my twenty-eight francs right where 
I needed it, for eats the coming day. 
Then, the next evening, I moved away 
In search of my company. 

United States of America, 
June 9, 1919. 



169 



TRAVEL ORDERS 



I SOMEHOW MISSED THE COWS MOST 

I somehow missed the cows most over there 
In France. At evening, I would let 

My thoughts drift back to them. I knew my 
share 
Of happiness was not to quite forget 

All things back here, and, so, I'd often say: 

"I miss the cows most now that I'm away." 

I somehow never dared ever to think 

Of people there but for the cows I knew 
I'd never sob nor cry, I'd often wink. 

At that, to keep the tears back. Sure, it's 
true. 
And I am not ashamed to tell you ! There, 

I missed the cows ! I never can forget 
Just how I'd sit at night and really care 

To see the cows ! Dear cows, I love them 

yet, 

Perhaps because I'd think at night and say: 
"I miss the cows most now that I'm away." 



160 



PRESS ON 



PEACE 

I do not ask, at any price, for peace. 

I ask for peace through giving all, — yea, 
all. 
I ask for life and health and joy, all these 

Is what I know I have and hence I call 
For mine own heritage. 



A FRIEND 

I found a friend through service, then I knew 
He was a friend who must be ever true. 
I found a friend through service. 



161 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

MY SON IS VERY HUMAN 

My son is very human since he's home again. 
He helps me with the washing and he 
makes his bed. 
Sometimes I almost wonder why he isn't vain 
When he wipes the dishes for me, so I was 
led 
Tonight to ask him why he was a-helping me. 
He lifted me high, high up in his arms and 
said: 
"Muddy, are you blind with mustard-gas? 
Can't you see 
That wiping dishes for you is the greatest 

fun?" 
So very sweet and human is my son. 

My son is very human since he's home from 
war, 
Very kind and human, so very sweet and 
glad ! 
Why he will sweep and dust and scrub and 
do much more 
Than he's ever asked to do for me or Dad. 
Last night his Daddy told him it was strange 
but he 
Couldn't understand his boy. My son said : 
''Say, 
You call this I am doing, work. It's fun for 
me. 
I'm seeing right at last. Before I went 
away 



162 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

I didn't know one-half the downright fun I'd 
get 
In doing little chores around the place for 
you 
And helping dear, sweet Muddy. Now, don't 
once forget 
Vm pleasing just myself in doing this. It's 
true!" 
Yes, my son is very sweet and human! 



A SEVENTY-FIVE 

My brother sent a shell back home to me, 
A Seventy-Five! I wish you could see 
That shell ! I'd hke it better, too, if it 
Wasn't all carved and dolled up. It would fit 
My fancy better if 1 had have been 
Right where they fired those shells 
And led my men farther and farther past the 

German line. 
I tell yx)u souvenirs are truly fine 
But not so fine as real things. Anyway, 
If I'd been old enough, I'd found a way 
To get to France. Brother writes : ^'Believe 

me. 
There's no place quite like old Amerikee!" 

United States of America, 
May 17, 1919. 



163 



PKESS ON 

STEPHEN AND THE WORLD 

"The Word of God increased," the Scriptures 
tell, 
"And Stephen," ever "full of faith and 
power" 

Gave praise and raised the dead and made 
them well. 

Within the Synagogue, then there arose 

Blasphemers and cursed him for his ways 
Of peace. 

False witnesses were set up, too, to speak 

Laments against the changes Christ must 
bring, — 

Changes of cursed customs, frail and weak. 

All in the council looked in Stephen's face, 
And saw it chastened with the suffering 

That turns one's thought away from earth 
to God. 
The face was of an angel in the place 

Where persecution seemed to reign. The 
rod 
Threat'ning o'er Stephen, then became a law, 

A rule, that chiseled clearly every trace 

Into, dear World, the sweetest angel's face. 



164 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

THE GLORIOUS AGE OF DISAGREE- 
MENT 

Old Si Simpkins was always said to be 

A sharper. If he could, 'twas said, 

He got the best of everyone. To me, 

Since I came back from war, 

I do not call him crooked any more. 

He is the fairest man I ever saw. 

I heard him in an argument one day. 

And I took Si's part, silently. My Paw 

And him were most at outs, and, say, the way 

Si talked ! Right up and down ! "What does 

it say 
In the agreement we have written? We 
Knew what we both were doing. I declare," 
Said Si, "that anything on earth is fair 
That is signed up and sealed. You can't do 

more 
Or better than to stick to your own word, 
Just as it's written." Paw showed Si the 

door. 
But paid him just the same that very night. 
Because Paw so agreed and right is right. 

Live up to what you sign and seal. The 

might 
Of what you put in writin' you can do ; 
And when you've done that, then, by heck, 

you're through! 
You're honest! Angels ain't yet understood 
On earth but if one came and signed 
A deed or an agreement, then he should 



166 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

Live up to it, and never change his mind, 
Except in things where he ain't signed his 

name, 
He can change these without a speck of 

shame. 
There ain't no human goodness anywhere. 
Just do what you have signed and you are 

square. 

Before I went to war, I didn't dare 

To disagree with Paw in anything, 

But now that I have fought, I see just where 

I was mistaken. All war's suffering 

Was not in vain if, fearlessly, I can 

Agree to disagree with any man. 

Even my Paw. 

Speakin' of a crook, it is the one 

Who signs a paper sayin' that he knew 

You meant a diff'rent thing. A thing that's 

done 
And signed and sealed is all on earth that's 

true. 
About their moral rights, all crooks complain. 
Jest to be gittin' more for their own gain. 
Follow the written word. 

What if my Paw 

Should ever read these things that I have 

said! 
I'll bet that he would try to smash my head. 



166 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

Well, supposin' he did, everyone's fightin' and 

disagreein' now 
In this glorious age of disagreement, and, 

anyhow, 
I love and respect my Paw a whole lot more 

since I've been brave enough 
To disagree with him. 



NOBODY LOVES A CASUAL 

Nobody loves a casual. I was one 
Over in St. Ann, too. 
Nobody loves a casual, I am done 
With being one, I'll tell you ! 
Over in France, I lost, one day 
My company, and say, the way 
They treated me! Nobody cares to be 
A casual. I cannot see 
A single joy in being a casual. 
In France or here. No, not for me. 
I'm done with being a casual! 



167 



PRESS ON 

IRELAND'S PART IN THE Vv^AR 

She stayed at home, and this was truly best. 
For centuries, this wounded warrior-land 
Had need of quietude and thoughtful rest. 
She needed so to trust and take the hand 
Of that blest Country Abraham hath sought, 
Love's Country where God reigneth over all. 
She stayed at home and balanced off the 

wrong 
Of centuries of sin and self. Truth's call 
Bade her to change her cry to Freedom's 

Song. 
She stayed at home and voiced but one de- 
mand, — 
Her freedom. Ages long, it has been so. 
From crushing weight of self that has bent 

low 
All nations, she has cried out to be free 
From superstition, famine, hatred, w^oe, 
From all of self's superiority, 
From domination, and, too, from the curse 
Of ownership, from bondage and from death 
Itself, and from sin's living death, or worse, 
She has called out for freedom with each 

breath 
During past ages. 

Let her stand for aye as earth's best friend. 
Among all lands — no treachery within 
Her consciousness, — a friend to give or lend 
To all alike. Throughout long stirring years. 
Hath she gained peace from self. Her cease- 
less pray'r, 
Exhalted, purified through cleansing tears. 
Hath lifted self to heaven everywhere. 

168 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

MOTHER AND DAD 

Mother and Dad are quarreling since I came 

home from France. 
They used to never have a word before I got 

the chance 
To go over and fight the demons that once 

were over the sea. 
This home ain't what it once was. It ain't 

what it used to be. 
Mother and Dad are quarreling and I wonder 

what it means. 
It seems as though I was sleepin' and havin' 

all sorts of dreams. 
I wonder if my Dad is wrong and if Mother 

is in the right. 
It keeps me always a-guessin' from mornin' 

till late at night. 
My mother used to be afraid to ever anger 

Dad 
Until I came back from overseas and now it 

seems she had 
Rather make him mad than to please him. I 

wonder just the same 
If Mother is always in the right and Dad is 

all to blame. 
My Mother used to compromise before I went 

away. 
I've seen her yield almost her life rather than 

have a fray 
But now she don't yield anything. Things 

must be so and so. 
It seems like a world turned upside down 

which I nevermore shall know. 

169 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

It seems like a world turned upside down but 

mebby it's for the best 
And mebby love isn't love at all unless it can 

stand the test 
Of saying every unkind and cuttin' thing to 

everyone in sight. 
I am wondering if Dad is in the wrong and 

Mother is in the right. 

I am wondering, too, if all those years when 

I was a little tad 
And Mother was tryin' to please my Dad, I 

am wondering if she had 
The right of it then when she used to smile 

when Dad would curse and swear. 
I am wondering if Mother was in the right 

not to rise up and rave and tear. 

I am glad that Mother has learned to fight 

even though she's in the wrong. 
There's nothing quite so happy-like as to 

fight one's way along. 
Mother is looking happier than when she 

used to smile. 
And try to sweeten my Daddy up all of the 

livelong while. 

I've noticed, too, that mother's clothes are 

the very best in town. 
They used to be the shabbiest. Is the world 

all upside down? 
Has it all come about from fightin' the 

demons over the sea ? 
Must we always here be a-fightin' the demons 

in you and me? 

170 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

What is it meaning, anyway? Is it right to 

quarrel and fight? 
Is my Dad forever in the wrong and is Mother 

always right? 
Dad used to be the meanest man alive but 

he's good as pie, 
These days when Mother is fightin'. I surely 

wonder why. 

I saw Daddy kiss my Mother and hand her a 
dollar bill 

Without her asking a cent from him. Surely 
wonders never will 

Cease in these days of wonders. From morn- 
ing till late at night, 

I'm wondering if Dad is still in the wrong 
and Mother is always right. 



171 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

FATHER'S MUCH, MUCH KINDER 

Father's much, much kinder since Billy came 

from war. 
He's patienter and sweeter than he's ever 

been before. 
He used to scold and rave about and make me 

sob and cry 
Or else I used to go about with heavy heart 

and sigh. 
His scoldin' me was sudden-like and over 

anything 
I couldn't help at all, most like, — if Mary lost 

her ring. 
Or if I even needed a simple, gingham dress, 
If Johnnie came from School late, 
If the cows were lost, I guess 
He thought the women-folks should see this 

whole world should run straight. 
So Father used to scold me from morning un- 
til late 
At night. 

Billy told us how they used to sing, those 

doughboys over there 
Whenever they were forced to give their 

lives, yes, sing, right where 
They had to give up all on earth. Father 

coughed awhile. I wept 
At all the little stories Billy told of those 

who kept 
Their feet a-going straight and true through 

cheer and song and joy. 
Dear God, what strange, strange hymns they 

sang : "Your head down, Fritzie Boy." 

172 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

Well, Father hasn't scolded since he heard 

of this but once, 
And then Fll say I should have been a- 

scolded! Like a dunce 
I let the chicken burn like cinders in the 

oven, too, 
Before my eyes on Sunday and I didn't even 

do 
One thing. I should have been a-scolded. 

Father raved and swore and said : 
"What do you mean! Such carelessness!" 

Right then, he stopped. We heard 
A voice a-singin' from the barn and not an- 
other word 
Would Father say. 'Twas Billy singin' loud 

and high and clear. 
Well, Father turned and looked at me and 

whispered, ''Hark, my dear!" 
''Keep your head down, Fritzie Boy. Keep 

your head down, Fritzie Boy." 
Dear God, what strange, strange hymns they 

sang of wondrous, healing joy! 

Since Father's stopped a-scoldin' me, we've 

paid each debt we owe. 
A cousin came to visit us and stayed six 

months or so. 
And left two hundred dollars. Well, Father 

he was glad 
But not so much as I am that he don't scold 

and get mad 
At me, since Billy came from war. 



173 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

TEN DAYS AT BREST 

I spent ten days at Fort du Bouguen, 
Down there near Brest, — ten days, — eternity ! 
I found then that the war had not been won. 
At least it never had been won by me. 
It was dark, rainy, lonesome in that place, 
That fort which crowned a high hill over 

there. 
Ten days of watching sky and sea ! The space 
Between me and my home seemed endless, 

too, — 
Ten days in Brest without a thing to do. 

I spent ten days surrounded by that wall 
Which Richelieu had built. I could not tell 
You if I tried of those motes, gates and all 
Those forts. They seemed the barriers of 

hell. 
I was a casual, — ^they were, 'tis true. 
The men who won the war, yet I regret 
To say even in telling this to you. 
They won the war, and still they never get 
In France one kindly look. They are no more 
Than outcasts with the Prussian prisoners, — 
Those very casuals who won the war. 
I spent ten days there, overlooking Brest 
Without ten centimes. I was broke, that's 

all. 
I never can complain again ! The best 



174 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

Or worst in life can't move me since the call 
Of those dull whistles on the ships which 

sailed 
Without me was the saddest earthly thing ; 
And that one ship which took me, — though 

all failed, 
In life, this gladdest, brightest hour would 

bring 
Me joy enough forever and a day. 
Ten days in Brest and then I sailed away. 



176 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

BROTHER— THE NEW WATCH ON THE 

RHINE 

Brother writes that he is playing 

Baseball near the Rhine, — 
Way up on a fort, he's saying, 

The grounds are surely fine. 
Brother says the Rhine is flowing. 

Just as it used to do, 
And the Moselle grapes are growing. 

And turning red and blue. 

Brother writes each day he's praying 

For travel orders west. 
And he saj^s that he is staying 

Reluctantly. The best ; 
To do, is to play and wait there 

For travel orders home. 
He says they are coming late there. 

He surely hopes they'll come. 
Brother says the Rhine is flowing. 

Just as it used to do. 
And the Moselle grapes are growing. 

And turning red and blue. 

Brother writes the boys are basking 

All day, — they're fit and fine! 
And he says each one is asking 

To move on. On the Rhine 
This is now the new watch ever. 

The boys watch every day 
They're watching the flowing river, 

And watch for aye the way 
Of crossing the valley Moselle, 

T'w^ard Trier, on t'ward home. 

176 



TRAVEL ORDERS 

All is quiet there, and all's well. 

I surely hope they'll come. 
Brother says the Rhine is flowing, 

Just as it used to do. 
And the Moselle grapes are growing, 

And turning red and blue. 

Brother writes that he is praying 

For travel orders west. 
And he says that he is staying 

Reluctantly. The best ; 
To do is to play and wait there 

For Travel Orders home. 
He says they are coming late there. 

He surely hopes they'll come. 



17^ 



PRESS ON 



HOME 

The Tribes of Israel are home once more. 
Go, open wide for them to-day each door, 
And bid them enter. Give them wine and 
bread, 

The bread of heav'n, and wine of living 
Truth, 
The Tribes of Israel each hour are led 

To life eternal. Now unchanging youth 
Is theirs. Their song and pray'r: Press On! 
Press on and let God's will on earth be done. 
Press On! 



178 



